


The rest of the holidays

by constantlearner



Category: Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
Genre: Adventure, Sailing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-02
Updated: 2014-06-08
Packaged: 2018-02-03 04:45:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1731641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/constantlearner/pseuds/constantlearner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the great aunt goes home and Swallow is repaired, Swallows and Amazons are free to camp on Wild Cat Island, sail, rescue a dog and have a war (best of three and no night sailing). Bridget makes a friend and Roger gets to see some wrestling. The rest of the holidays go much too quickly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Isn't it a blessing to be home?

 

“Pouf,” said Susan, raking the sticks together in the fireplace. “Isn’t it a blessing to be home?”

And for the next half hour or so, both she and Peggy were busy re-arranging matters to their own satisfaction and keeping the ship’s boy and the able seaman hard at work. The two captains announced that they would go to the harbour and check on the boats and did not return.

“There’s not really so much to do.” John remarked, clearing assorted twiggy bits from his pockets as they sat under the Look-out Pine. They had snaked past the campsite on their way from the harbour to the lookout point, as much for the practice as anything else.

“I’ve had enough of being told to fetch things by the Great Aunt.” Nancy said with a grin. “I don’t want Peggy to start getting mutinous ideas.”

John held up a caterpillar for her inspection. It was a dark green with legs at the front and back and none in the middle.

“She’s a pine looper.” Nancy said. “I don’t know if they have another name. I think they only eat pine needles. Do you think it’s still alive?”

The caterpillar answered the question itself by drawing up it back legs to its front legs, turning itself into a loop before straightening out again. It was tickly.  John looked doubtfully up at the lookout pine.

“I’ll probably squash him if I try to carry him up”

“No need. Uncle Jim knocked a few twigs off hoisting the lantern.”

The pine looper transferred itself readily to the twig and rapidly became invisible.

“Unnoticeable, anyway which amounts to the same thing.” said Nancy as they lodged the twig in a suitable place. “So, Commodore, what are your orders for tomorrow?”

For a moment, John wondered if she was going to expect him to come up with all the ideas. Then he remembered how she had taken charge only an hour or so ago, when they thought there were intruders on the island. She was too generous to intentionally usurp his command, but he would find it happening none the less if he didn’t pay attention.

“Sailing, sailing and more sailing.” he said. “We haven’t really explored the northern end of the lake, although I suppose you have.”

“We’re quite happy to explore it again. It feels quite different being more of us.”

That was as close as an Amazon pirate was going to get to admitting to missing anyone, let alone feeling lonely. Perhaps Nancy felt she had said too much, because she scrambled to her feet and proceeded, after a few attempts, to stand on her head. She didn’t do it as well as Susan, but was no worse than Titty or Roger. Bridget had convinced herself she could stand on her head with John “Keeping her steady”. John had found Bridget uncomfortably heavy when held upside down by the ankles, and hoped she had forgotten about it. He mentioned this last thought to Nancy.

“That’s alright. I won’t do it where Bridget can see.” said Nancy. “I just felt I had to do something unladylike.”

She sat down again, red-faced and with pine needles in her hair. Now that he _was_ Commodore, John felt safe asking the question he had been carefully avoiding for a year. Whatever her answer, it wouldn’t alter things now. Anyway, it didn’t seem to matter as much here, where what you could do mattered so much more than when your birthday actually was.

“I’m not fourteen until the end of September.” she replied.

“I’m fourteen already.” he said. She continued to look enquiringly at him.

 “Beginning of July.” he added.

She nodded. “I thought you probably were older than me.”

“I thought you were.”

“Just tall for my age. That’s how I was so sure you were older, so I didn’t say anything. Anyway, you’re Commodore fair and square by winning the race, not just by happening to be a couple of months older.”

There was a comfortable pause, with both of them leaning against the pine tree, looking out over the Lake.

“Commodore?”

“Yes?”

“Planning for tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“We’re facing the wrong way for the first thing.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sailing down to Horseshoe Cove.”

John felt surprised. “We don’t know that anything been left behind.”

“It probably hasn’t. It’ll do as an excuse though.”

“An excuse? I don’t see why we need to go at all. Well, perhaps we should to say thank-you to the Swainsons. But if there’s a good wind tomorrow we shouldn’t waste it. Horseshoe Cove isn’t too far to row, really. We could do that on a calm day.”  

Nancy maintained a studied silence.

“It’s not as though…” he began.

“We could always….” he tried again.

“We’ve sailed her….”

“But not from Wild Cat to Horseshoe Cove.” she said, adding cryptically, “That’s the thing about places.”

There was another pause, not quite so comfortable. Both of them wriggled slightly.

“Susan will probably think we ought to go and say thank-you, so I suppose we should do it as soon as possible.”

“Yes.”

Nancy’s shoulder, now just touching his own, relaxed slightly. He felt pleased that he had lived up to her expectations, obscure though they seemed to him.

“It’s more difficult to think how we’re going to have war all living on the same island.” he said.

“We’ll think of something. We can’t start a war until Uncle Jim’s been to supper anyway.”

“Mother and Bridget are meant to be coming and staying for a night.”

“Good for the ship’s baby, but we can’t have a war with them here either.”

“Horseshoe Cove and then exploring the arctic tomorrow.” John said with decision.

“Whales and longships and Viking settlements and the sun never setting for months at a time.”

“And long heroic sagas and horned helmets and reindeer.”

Nancy pretended to look alarmed. “We don’t have to call on the Misses Martindale.”

“Who are they?”

“Friends. Two sisters. Not exactly old, but not young either. Both about forty or fifty, I think. They do have a horned helmet. Peggy and I have both tried it on. They’re very kind, but it’s even harder to get away from them than it is from the Swainsons. They keep saying how lovely it is to have young visitors. We try to only visit them in weather that’s too bad to be outdoors. They go out and paint in watercolours a lot when it’s fine and sell them to a shop in Grasmere. Sometimes they have lodgers.”

“A real Viking helmet?”

“No. They used to have another sister who practically ran the amateur drama society and it was hers. They do tell very long sagas, though. Some of them are quite interesting.”

“Susan says she’s been blowing the whistle and have you two gone deaf? And Peggy says daft more like and you’re to come now.” Roger, having delivered his message, skipped smartly out of range of retaliation and went, with scarcely a hobble back down the path to the camp in the dusk, leaving his elders to follow at a more sedate pace.

“I must apologise for my Mate.” said Nancy, voice serious but eyes dancing.

* * *

 

Despite waking early and with the best of intentions, they didn’t start sailing until quite well on into that first morning. John swam around the island and found it easier than last year. Nancy managed it too, although more slowly. Roger and Titty showed Nancy and Peggy how they had dived for pearls last year. Susan told John he was in charge of the fire and went off, rather impatiently by herself, for the milk. Nancy had spoken the truth when she had told John that she really could not stay under water long. She managed to retrieve one “pearl” from the bottom of the lake just, failed to swim underwater and got out to help John with the fire and the breakfast. By the time Susan got back from Dixon’s, she found the companies of both ships clothed and more or less dry. The bread was cut and buttered (admittedly someone – probably Nancy – had been heavy handed with the butter.) The cornflakes were in the bowls, waiting for the milk and Peggy had just poured the boiling water on the tea. Eight boiled eggs were wrapped in a tea towel keeping warm. All this did a lot to improve Susan’s mood.

The wind was still from the north and they ran down easily to Horseshoe Cove. Only Susan, Peggy and Roger went up to Swainson’s Farm and came back empty handed. Captain Flint had a good eye for detail.

They beat against the freshening wind, past Cormorant Island and their own island and past  Houseboat Bay.

“He’s flying the elephant.” said Roger in the _Amazon_ for a change, although they could all see that for themselves.

“It’s because he’s so happy.” said Peggy. There was no need to say why.

They passed Darien and could not see mother and Bridget in the garden or the field. The wind was steadier than yesterday and continued north briskly.

“We should have put a skull and cross-bones on that flag-pole.” said Nancy, “Just to let everyone know we’re properly pirates and explorers again.”

“Mother would have to take it down at sunset,” said Peggy, “and you know how tangled she can get with flags.”

They had arranged that they would go nearly to the head of the lake and before stopping for dinner and the Amazons would show the Swallows a good place to tie up.

“And it will be tying up.” Nancy had warned John. “There’s not that many rocks but they’re awkwardly placed. The birch trees come quite close to the shore though, so the thing to do is tie the painters to trees and then use the anchors to stop them swinging into each other. There’s a bit of a current there.”

Now though, _Swallow_ was considerably ahead. Both boats were tossing in the wake of the steamer heading south, although it had passed them several minutes ago.

“It’s not that _Swallow’s_ a better boat, really.” said Nancy, almost fiercely. “She’s just got a better Captain.”

She seemed to require no response to this remark. Roger, despite John’s strictures on sail being the thing, could not help looking back at the steamer with admiring eyes.

“Man overboard!” he yelled in excitement. “At least it’s a dog really.”

“Just keep looking straight at it,” said Nancy, “and mind your head, I’m bringing us about.”

Whether or not John was better, Nancy and Peggy were good too. _Amazon_ was running before the wind and reached the dog very quickly. The dog, a Retriever, seemed happy to see them and more than willing to come alongside. With Roger and Peggy leaning all their weight over to the port side, Nancy, leaning over to starboard managed to get the dog’s front paws into Amazon twice, but as soon as she let go, to grab the dog’s hindquarters and pull it aboard, it withdrew its paws and continued swimming.

“There’s nothing else for it. I’m going to have to get in and push. I can’t get a good grip on the fur, and the collar’s come off. Roger, you’re lightest. When I get the front paws aboard, you grab on for all you’re worth and I’ll boost it in from behind.  Peggy will keep _Amazon_ balanced. I’ll get in and out over the stern. The rudder with be in the way, but it can’t be helped. Luckily the centre-board is already down.

“What if that doesn’t work?” asked Roger.

“By then the others will have noticed and come back.” Nancy had already removed her shoes and was in the water as she said this. The dog greeted her by licking her ear. She had to push down on the gunwhale to get enough purchase to push the dog upwards. This time the Retriever seemed to understand what was required of it and scramble aboard as soon as he had got one back paw over the gunwhale. Peggy only just jerked upright in time to prevent herself going over the port side. The dog shook itself vigorously and laid an affectionate and wet head against Peggy’s shorts.

“Lie down.” Nancy commanded from the water. To Roger’s private surprise, the dog did just that.

“He might have swum ashore anyway.” said Roger, holding the dog firmly by the scruff to stop it standing up to give Nancy another rapturous welcome as she scrambled back aboard.

“Pretty deep if it didn’t.” said Peggy, who felt that their rescue attempts should not be belittled.

“Shiver my timbers,” exclaimed Nancy, who was shivering fairly briskly herself, “I don’t know why John doesn’t”

She stopped abruptly. Roger was tickling behind the dog’s ears but she could see the expression on his face. Nancy realised that he was reassuring himself that the dog would not have drowned, even if he had not happened to see it jump (or fall) in. He was not giving her cheek.

“He would have been lost once it got ashore.” she said instead.

“How are we going to get it back to its owners?” asked Roger, privately hoping it would be impossible to do so.

“Give chase to the steamer.” said Nancy, grinning despite her shivers. “Let’s show them what _Amazon_ can do with the wind behind her _._ Let’s have that centre-board up, Roger. What are they doing in _Swallow_ , Peggy?”

“Hanging round waiting for us to catch up.” 

“Let’s get underway and then you signal to them, Peggy and let them know what’s happened. I don’t know how much they could see.”

Captain Nancy really was very like Captain John when she was sailing, thought Roger, however different they might be ashore. There was the same total concentration, the same impatience with anything that did not affect the task in hand.

“Which steamer?” she had asked once they were underway and Peggy was signalling.

“Term?” It sounded like a silly name to Roger even as he said it.

“Tern?”

“That’s it.”

“We might catch them in Rio.”

But as they approached Rio, they saw the steamer leaving.

“Suppose they’ve got off and gone back to look for the dog?” said Peggy.

“If they saw us pick him up and described us to anyone, they’ll find out who we are and where we live fast enough.” said Nancy. “There’s no other pirates on the Lake, Amazon or otherwise. But if they get down to the foot of the lake, they’ll have much less chance of finding out who we are and where their dog is.”

“Do you think we’ll catch up with the steamer?” said Roger.

“Not a chance.” said Nancy cheerfully, “but we might reach them while everyone is still standing on the landing stage wringing their hands. Are the others following us yet?”

“Yes,” said Peggy. “Titty’s signalling. I.D.I.O.TS.”

“That’s what John told her to say.” said Roger.

“Well we did go and change plans.” said Peggy.

Nancy said nothing, but settled down to get the most out of the freshening northerly wind. Amazon steadily drew ahead of _Swallow._ Still as long as the Swallows kept the _Amazon_ in sight it didn’t really matter.

 They had just passed Darien when Roger said “I’m hungry”.

“Have a sandwich then.”

Roger and Peggy shared out the pemmican sandwiches. Nancy was concentrating on sailing too much to take more than a bite or two out of her sandwich, and Roger gave the dog the rest of it. Much to Roger’s disappointment, Peggy refused to let him open the chocolate.

Approaching the landing stage at the foot of the lake, Nancy was beginning to wonder if they would so easily find the dog’s owners. She need not have worried. Roger, jumping ashore with the painter, found himself almost pushed aside.  The dog leaping ashore and racing off up the landing stage, towards a small family group, barking frantically and wagging his tail furiously.

“You two go and explain.” Nancy said. “I’ll wait for the others.”


	2. Signalling failure

 

Susan looked anxiously back at the Amazon.

“Someone’s in the water.”

“It’s not Roger, I can see him in _Amazon.”_ said Titty, who was using John’s telescope.

“What does Nancy think she’s playing at?” John muttered.

“There’s something in the water.” Titty reported.

“A knapsack?”

“No, it’s something much bigger. Nancy’s getting in the water now.” Titty was finding it difficult to use the telescope as little _Swallow_ bobbed about in the fading remains of the lake. Even Susan could see the next bit, although John, still preoccupied with the sail, wasn’t even looking.

“It’s a dog!” both his sisters exclaimed at the same time.

“Nancy’s getting back in.” Titty said.

“She’ll be soaked.” said Susan. “She should really get changed.”

John grinned briefly. “Not Nancy.”

But after a certain amount of rearrangement and some barking, _Amazon_ headed south, running before the wind. John was reluctant to give up on their plan but he had to follow immediately. _Amazon_ with her centre board up would be faster and she already had a head start.

“Peggy’s signalling.” said Susan.

“You read the signal, Mister Mate and have the Able Seaman write it down.”

Titty scrabbled in the knapsack for her exercise book and a stump of pencil. Peggy was already repeating her signal before Titty was ready to write anything down.

“B.W.L.L.W.O new word T.Z.E. new word M.T.E.G.S.E.R. new word R.E.M.C.U.E.D. new word D.W.G. new word A.B.W.A.R.D.”

“That’s got to be a mistake, surely.” said Susan.

“Maybe it’s a secret code.” Titty suggested.

“They’ve probably got one of their own.” John sounded irritated.

“But they would know we didn’t know it.” Susan pointed out.

“She’s probably just made lots of mistakes.” said John.

“It’ll be hard to signal from a moving dinghy. You can’t blame Peggy for that.” said Susan.

“I wasn’t.”

“Look, this is probably “Dog” not “Dwg”.” Titty said, “and the one before it is probably rescued.”

Susan peered over Titty’s shoulder.

“Try turning all the “W”s into “O”s and all the “M”s into “S”s” she suggested.

“Bolloo Tze Stegser rescued dog aboard.” Titty read out.

“We know they’ve got a rescued dog aboard. We saw that for ourselves.” said Susan.

John expected that Nancy would turn aside to Rio or head for the mouth of the Amazon River, but she did neither. She wasn’t producing a ruler-straight wake either, but was evidently intent on getting everything she could out of the brisk wind. John knew he had no chance of catching Nancy up. He quickly realised he could not even keep pace with her. It was going to take all his efforts not to fall too far behind. By the time they passed Houseboat Bay, the Mate and the Able Seaman had decided that the second word was “the”. When it became clear that Nancy was not turning aside to Wild Cat Island, the mate came to a decision of her own.

“It’s long past two o’clock, nearer three really.” she said. “It was dinner time by the time we turned South again. We had better eat now. There’s one comfort – there’s no chance of Roger forgetting to eat.”

The Captain and the Able Seaman decided that the less they said, the less chance there was that Susan would mention their own roles in the late start that morning. Titty had already begun to feel hungry. John was concentrating on the now lessening wind and keeping _Amazon_ in sight. He was feeling increasingly irritated with her captain and crew. Why couldn’t they send proper signals? Why sail the length of the lake? (He was pretty sure now that was where they were going.) His own Mate put her foot down once she had eaten her sandwich.

“Have something to eat, properly. There’s a less wind now, and you’ll be a lot less grumpy once you’ve eaten.”

John privately felt this was a bit much coming from Susan, who was far more often grumpy than he was. He supposed he should set a good example to the Able Seaman and relinquished the tiller to Susan. He had to admit that he did feel better for the Pemmican sandwiches and a piece of chocolate.

As they approached the native settlement at the foot of the lake, he took the tiller back from Susan. If there was going to be any mistake in the complications of ropes and buoys and landing stage, it had better be his. Besides, Susan was now anxiously scanning the landing stages for any sign of Roger and did not have her mind totally on _Swallow_. It was Titty who spotted _Amazon,_ sail already neatly furled. Nancy was sitting beside _Amazon_ on the landing stage. John only spared her the briefest of glances. She caught the painter Titty threw her and tied it up deftly.

“Where’s Roger?” Susan demanded.

“With Peggy, talking to the dog’s people.” Nancy pointed along the landing stage. Susan hurried off. There was a lot of laughter and talking. She hoped Roger wasn’t being cheeky. If Peggy was chattering away she might not be keeping an ear out for him. Titty started to follow her and then stopped.

“Are you alright Nancy?”

“I’m fine.”

Titty joined the others at the other end of the landing stage.

The Commodore looked at the Captain. Her shirt was drying out in patches, her shorts were still wet and her feet were bare. A bit of last term’s Physics lesson came into his mind. Evaporation required heat. He reached out and touched her arm, just below the rolled up sleeve. It was very cold.

“Don’t you have a jersey?”

“It’s soaking wet. I made the dog lie down and he lay on the knapsack. I’m fine.”

John hoisted his knapsack out of _Swallow_ and handed her a jersey.

“Thank you, but there’s no sense in getting your jersey wet.”

“Your shirt’s nearly dry. It doesn’t matter.”

Nancy wriggled into the jersey and grinned, folding the ends of the sleeves nearly up to her elbows.

“Your mother believes in clothes to grow into, too?”

“It’s Father’s. I borrowed it.”

“Thank you.”

John handed her some chocolate. “I bet your mate didn’t make you eat enough dinner.”

“I bet yours did.”

John grinned.

“Why did you sail all the way down here?”

“Your ship’s boy saw the dog fall off the steamer.”

“Sorry about the signal then. We didn’t see that. We just thought you had found the dog swimming.”

“Peggy did explain.”

“We understood “Rescued dog aboard.” We couldn’t make head or tail of the first bit.”

“Follow the steamer.”

John showed her the page in the exercise book.

“I see what you mean.” Nancy said. “I can see how it happened too.”

“I think we need to improve our crews’ signalling.”

“Yes.” Nancy sounded doubtful.

“Why not?”

“The thing is, I’m not actually sure I would have done better.”

John felt rather glad that she had been the one to say it.

“Swot up for a day or two and then get them started on it?” he suggested.

“Much better. It’s something to do if we get a calm.”

The able seaman came rushing back. “They wanted to give us some money, but Peggy wouldn’t let them and they tried again and Susan wouldn’t let them and now they want to take us all for ices. Susan said it would be alright if you agreed. They’ve got a baby and a little girl who’s four and they seem awfully nice and they’re called Tinsdale.”

“I don’t see why not?” John looked at Nancy.

“ Giminy, of course we will, Uncle Jim was coming to supper, not tea.”

“Susan said you probably better not have an ice, if you’re still wet.” Titty sounded apologetic.

“There’ll probably be something else you can have. You did the most.”

“Roger did the most important thing, spotting the dog.” was all Nancy said, but if you knew her you could tell she was pleased.

“You two go on. I’ll stay with the boats.”

“No, you go and I’ll fill in bits of the map of the lake. We do have some more to add even if it’s only a bit. The steamer people have said that Roger can spend the day on the steamer and help only I think they want to talk to you about it.”

“I hope Roger hasn’t asked.” said John privately to Nancy.

“If he did it’s too late now.”

If Roger had asked, the idea had fallen on such sympathetic ears that it did not really matter. John found himself included in the invitation. He hastily explained to the steamer man that he had played no part in the rescue.

“Nancy and Peggy and Roger did it all.”

“Aye, but lasses won’t be interested in machinery, and the little lad will need someone to keep an eye on him.”

Roger, perfectly aware that John was likely to have no more interest in a steam vessel than Nancy and was more likely to say so, poked his brother privately but not exactly gently in the ribs.

“One of us can certainly come with him.” Nancy said diplomatically.

They agreed to bring Roger and whoever-else to the steamer pier by nine o’clock the next day and the whole party set off in search of ices.

“Only,” said Mrs Tinsdale who had a jolly, no nonsense manner, “Perhaps Nancy better have a hot drink if she has been soaked.

They found a tea-room that had three small, gingham covered tables in a little courtyard and pushed them together.

“That way we don’t have to tie Humphrey up outside.”

“Does he try to run away?” asked Peggy. Four –year old Joyce had scornfully refused her parents’ laps but was charmed to sit on a Peggy’s knees. 

“No, and he doesn’t whine much either. But he turns on the soulful expression and we come out to find some passer-by dancing attendance on him and feeding him tidbits.” Mr Tinsdale explained.

The soulful eyes were at the moment fixed firmly on Nancy’s face as she drank her cup of cocoa. Humphrey was resting his chin on Nancy’s lap with his floppy ears spread out on her knees, his tail softly thumping John’s legs.

“Humphrey likes Nancy.” Joyce announced.

“Do you think he knows she rescued him?” Roger asked.

“Of course he does.” Joyce said. “Humphrey is the cleverest dog in the world.”

“Roger was the one who saw him. He wouldn’t have been rescued without Roger.” Nancy said and at the sound of her voice John felt the tail speed up.

The three older Tinsdales asked questions about their holiday, and about _Swallow_ and _Amazon._ Joyce was particularly interested in Bridget.

“I’ve only got a brother, not a sister and he can’t do very much at all.” Joyce explained with a theatrical sigh.

“Eric isn’t quite one yet.” Mr Tinsdale pointed out.

“I’ve got three younger sisters and they could hardly do anything before they were one. They do get better at things. You just have to be patient.” John assured her solemnly. He did not dare catch Nancy’s eyes as he said this.

“Suppose you’re not patient?”

“They still improve.” said Nancy.

“At least they don’t take as much patience as big sisters.” said Peggy.

“Or big brothers.  They take a lot of patience.” added Roger, safely on the other side of the table.

Peggy and Roger were happily explaining about Wild Cat Island and yesterday’s race. John finished his ice and slipped the wafer from it to Humphrey, who accepted it very gently and gratefully but soon resumed his adoration of Nancy. Susan, now hold Eric to allow Mrs Tinsdale to finish her ice, caught John eyes and looked questioningly at him. He nodded slightly, and turned back to Nancy, who nodded having already seen Susan’s glance. There was no hope of catching Peggy’s eye when she was in full flow. John nodded to Susan. She really was better at this sort of thing.

“We were wondering if you would like to come to tea on Wild Cat Island, tomorrow. Mother and Bridget are coming and I thought maybe Joyce would like to meet Bridget.”

“We’ll come and pick you up and bring you in _Swallow_ and _Amazon_.” John added.

Mrs Tinsdale looked at her husband as Joyce bounced herself right off Peggy’s lap.

“How could we say no?” she asked, “We’d be delighted.”


	3. Chapter 3

 

“So who’s going to come with me on the steamer?” Roger asked, trotting along the narrow pathway. He was trying to walk beside John, but Nancy and John were walking along together, behind Susan and Peggy. Roger was walking backwards half the time and generally getting under other people’s feet. John was beginning to feel that they had left Titty on her own for a long time. Perhaps Susan felt the same. She and Peggy were setting a fair pace.

“Ask the Commodore. It’s his decision.” said Nancy, after giving John enough time to answer.

“I’ll let you know before we go to bed.” said John.

“But I can go, can’t I?” Roger persisted.

“Of course. We said so, so you can.”

 John had so much to think about that he let Titty steer once they were well away from the landing stage. She hadn’t said a word about waiting while they ate ices. John felt she had earned it. And the wind was, after all, becoming lighter. He supposed he should let the other Swallows have more chances to take the tiller. With _Swallow_ so newly repaired, he felt he could not bear to lose a whole day’s sailing. True enough, a steamer was a boat and if it was a choice of being ashore or afloat on the steamer, he would jump at a day spent sailing up and down the lake. That was not the choice. He did not especially relish spending a day collecting strange looks for his lack of enthusiasm about steam engines, which had never especially interested him, whether on rails or on in boats.

Titty was generally happy enough to accompany Roger on an adventure. Perhaps it was the other way around. It was generally Titty who had the ideas. Titty was too young and besides, she felt about _Swallow_ much as he did himself.

If sensible supervision was what was wanted, Mate Susan was the obvious person, but she had as little interest in steam engines as he did himself. At least he had paid enough attention in lessons to know how one worked. John had looked in Susan’s science notebook out of curiosity at Easter. He had found out more than he really wanted to know about the insides of earthworms and admired her careful diagrams of light reflecting off different types of mirrors. There was nothing about pressure or steam or forces. It would be unfair to send Susan, who was looking forward to showing Mother how well she ran their camp, with Roger. He had felt irritated with Susan when they were sailing down the lake. Seeing Nancy sitting cold, wet and hungry (even if she would not admit it) while Peggy chattered and made friends had made him appreciate a sister who was prepared to boss him about for his own good occasionally.

He glanced across at the _Amazon._ He rather hoped one of them might volunteer. They had, after all, far more chances to sail _Amazon_ than the Walkers had of sailing _Swallow._ Except this summer they hadn’t. They hadn’t even been able to camp. The Great-Aunt had tried to govern all their movements, and as for those dresses and gloved hands and that prim carriage ride and Mrs Blackett being made to cry……. Nancy and Peggy’s summer had, so far, been much worse than the Swallows’ summer and they had not moped. John suddenly pictured Bridget’s “best doll”, a stiff, cold, expensive gift from a distant cousin. The china doll wore a frilly frock and sat unloved on a high shelf in Bridget’s bedroom. The stuffed elephant shared Bridget’s small adventures and was already growing squashed and bald with love.  The Great-Aunt, who surely should be expected to love Nancy and Peggy, was trying instead to turn them into “best dolls” to come and go at her behest and sit and wait if she required it. John found he had clenched his fists, which was ridiculous. After all, Nancy had carried out all her plans triumphantly. Whether the Great-Aunt knew it or not she had been soundly defeated. He grinned and then realised Susan was looking at him curiously. He looked away before she quite caught his eye. Even if one of the Amazons volunteered to accompany Roger, John could not possibly accept the offer, unless it seemed that they would really prefer to go.

Back on the Island, the mates started to cook supper while the others gathered what firewood they could. It was not a lot. There would have to be a wood gathering party soon. Roger joined John and Nancy at the lookout point.

“I’ll go with you on the steamer tomorrow.” John told the Ship’s Boy, and could not help feeling cheered by Roger’s smile. “That is, unless Nancy or Peggy would prefer to go.”

“It’s the sort of thing the Great-aunt does.” said Nancy, “At least, she used to like to go at least once every visit, but now she says too many of the visitors are.” Nancy broke off abruptly and continued, “She didn’t want to go this time. You’ll do much better and probably be shown more with John than you would be with either of us.”

Roger nodded, piling pine cones up in a pyramid.

“How are we getting there?” he asked. They both looked at the Commodore. He looked at Nancy.

“Getting four passengers and a dog here from Rio in _Amazon_ could be a bit of a squeeze.” he said.

“Two of the passengers are small,” said Nancy “and Humphrey isn’t that heavy. He’s just a bit awkwardly shaped for a boat and he can’t seem to stop wagging.”

“If someone takes Roger and me to the foot of the lake, then Susan and Titty will have _Swallow_ if they need her.”

Nancy caught John’s eye and smiled at him. He felt as if he had succeeded at something unexpectedly, as he had when he finally learned to dive properly.

“There’s Captain Flint.” said Roger, leaping to his feet. “Susan said one of us was to tell her when we saw him and someone else was to say when he passes the lookout point.” And Roger rushed back to the camp.

“Ages yet. Uncle Jim’s not hurrying.” said Nancy. “Did you mean it about having another war? Because we could start the day after tomorrow. We’re already half the way through the holidays.”

“Mother and Bridget will still be there in the morning. But we could start the day after that.”

John frowned, building Roger’s little pyramid of pine cones higher.

“Capturing each other’s boats by stealth would be difficult with both of us on the same island. Besides we’ve already done that. We can’t do anything that would simply come down to a straight forward fight because there are four of us and only two of you. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“I’m still bigger than you, just, and Peggy’s bigger than Susan.”

“It’s still four against two and besides..”

“Jib-booms and bobstays, don’t you dare say it!”

John had to admit, if only to himself, that the sentence would have finished “you’re both girls.”

Instead he said, “But I expect they don’t fight at all in girls’ schools, not even when you’re little kids.”

“That doesn’t stop Peggy and me fighting if we feel like it. Don’t you ever fight with the others, just for fun?”

“Susan thinks she’s too old now. It’s important never to let Roger win. You never hear the last of it.”

“And they are both smaller.” Nancy grinned, leant over and deliberately snatched a pine cone out of John’s hand.

It was an enjoyable scrap. Neither of them had the least intention of hurting the other; it really did not matter who won, and they were well-matched in size. It took some time for John to capture both of Nancy’s wrists and begin to prise her fist open, starting with the little finger. He lifted the pine cone above his head in triumph (and if not out of her reach, out of easy reach). She tickled him in the ribs and he could not help bringing his hand lower and slackening his grip slightly. Nancy had been watching for her moment and recaptured the battered pine cone. She stepped smartly back out of arm’s reach. They were both more breathless from laughter than from the fight itself.

“Not fair.” John panted. “And how did you know I was ticklish anyway?”

“Legitimate strategy of war.” she replied cheerfully. “I saw you tickling Bridget yesterday at the feast but you took jolly good care not to let her tickle you.”

Roger came running back up the path. “Captain Flint’s already here. A fine pair of lookouts you are!”

Nancy’s eyes were sparkling with amusement as they met John’s. It would have done nothing for the dignity of the Captains if the Ship’s Boy had caught them play-fighting as if they were eight years old themselves.

* * *

 

After the day’s events had been described to Captain Flint, John spoke of the possibility of a war. Captain Flint was after all a retired pirate rather than entirely a native.

“We could capture something?” John suggested doubtfully.

“Why not have a quest of some kind?” asked Titty, who had found a book of Arthurian legends in the school library last term. “Like for the Grail.”

“Why not have both?” asked Nancy. “We’ve got two weeks left.”

“It would have to be a bit shorter than the quest for the Grail,” put in Peggy. “Didn’t that go on for years?”

“Could we use something as a fortress?” asked Titty.

“An island perhaps?” suggested John. “Not Wild Cat, another one?”

“Cormorant Island?” Roger suggested.

“It’s a bit too big to be really defensible. It would be more of a pitched battle and the side with most people would simply win.” said Susan.

“Isn’t that what we want?” asked Roger, grinning.

“No.” the other Swallows told him in unison. Peggy threw a pine cone at him half-heartedly. He caught it and threw it back at her, rather harder. She threw it in the fire where it crackled briefly.

“We want to show these Amazons we can win anyway, even if the odds are against us rather than for us.” John spoke to Roger, but his eyes were on Nancy.

“Do you now?” Nancy replied softly.

Titty glanced from captain to captain as they held each other’s gaze and thought it would be hard to say whose eyes glittered more fiercely in the firelight or whose smile was more piratical.

“What about one of the islands about Rio?” Susan suggested.

“Too many visitors about.” Peggy replied regretfully.

“How will we know when we’ve captured it? How long does it have to be captured for?” Titty asked.

“Any war has to be over in a day.” said Susan, “because of no night sailing.”

“We could do “best of three”.” Nancy suggested. “A war isn’t just one battle.”

“One could be the Swallows defending a place and the Amazons have to capture it. One is the other way about and the third is Titty’s quest.”

“But how do we know when it is captured?” asked Titty again.

“Put a chalk circle or a circle of string down in the place you’re defending. If one of the other crew get two feet into it, they’ve captured it.” John suggested.

“Pretend if they’ve got that far, they’ve opened a secret postern and let an army in.” said Titty.

“What’s a postern?” Roger asked.

“A kind of secret door, I think.” she replied.

“So where do we defend?” asked Peggy.

“Each side chooses a place not too far from the Lake, the other side has to find it.” Titty began thoughtfully.

“We could spend the whole day looking for it and not finding it.” Susan said.

“The defending side get a head start,” Nancy suggested, “but leave a clue behind. One that narrows it down a lot, so we don’t spend too much time searching. A map maybe.  After a certain amount of time, an hour say, the other crew can set off and find and attack the defenders.”

“And if the defenders win? What counts as a win for them?” Susan asked.

“The capture hasn’t been made by four o’clock.” came Nancy’s suggestion.

John  nodded. “It sounds reasonable.”

“It had better be on the east side of the lake. Too much shooting going on the west side.” Captain Flint suggested.

“We couldn’t chose anywhere near Beckfoot.” said Nancy, “We can’t help having an advantage in knowing the area, but we can keep it as small as possible. John did say he wanted to win against the odds.”

Again the dancing, teasing look at John. Again the piratical grin. Again, Titty hardly recognised her brother in the answering smile and level, challenging gaze.

“There are four of us.” he replied. “I say that more than evens it out.”

“What about the quest?” asked Roger. Titty could not imagine how anyone could fail to notice the tension around the little campfire. It wasn’t unfriendliness or unhappiness. She didn’t know what to make of it.

“I suggest you start your war and leave that to me for a day or two.” Captain Flint suggested. “And now, although rowing in the dark isn’t the same as sailing in the dark, I’d like to get back before the light goes entirely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With thanks to Fergus Mason for proof-reading.


	4. Chapter 4

 

John and Roger were standing on the landing stage at the foot of the Lake long before the appointed time.

“Come on, John!”

“We’re ages too early yet.” He was still watching Nancy’s solitary red cap growing steadily further away. _Swallow_ was without doubt the better boat in his own mind, but he had to admit that _Amazon_ was a fine dinghy, too, and Nancy was getting the most out of her beating against the comparatively gently breeze.

“All the better.” said Roger. “We’ll see more. But we’re not that early.”

John was not entirely convinced that the natives who ran the steamer would think that an enthusiastic Roger was the best start to the day. The other problem with Roger was that he was so often an early start to the day (as well as a hungry one). Susan’s alarm clock had not been needed that morning.

With one last glance back at _Amazon,_ John followed his younger brother towards the steamer.

The first trip of the day was always the emptiest, John learned, and he quickly found himself superfluous to requirements. The native in charge of the engine and Roger hit it off immediately and John was able to stand on deck and see how the helmsman negotiated a lake which, after all, was frequently busy. They passed little _Amazon_ just before Nancy reached Wild Cat Island.

“Not elegant.” said a young man with a suitcase next to his feet, standing at the rail next to John. “But pretty in a practical sort of way. Or should I say in a piratical sort of way.” He flashed a grin at John, inviting him to share the joke.

John grinned back. After all, every commodore likes to hear the ships under his command praised. It seemed too like boasting to explain the connection.

“Very.” John agreed.  Perhaps that was putting on side in a different way. It couldn’t be helped.

“Now the seventeen- foot yachts, the racing yachts, they’re really elegant. Have you seen them?”

John admitted that he had seen them, but knew very little about them. The young man needed no other encouragement and happily launched into the topic. He enthused about their elegance, their speed and  the way they were handier and smaller than their predecessors.

“My guv’nor says a lot of people looked down their noses at them when they came in – thought it lowered the tone.”

A friend of his father’s owned one.

“They’ve let me have a go before of course, but this is the first time I’ll be crewing for him in an actual race. Maud, that is my sister, came out this year, so of course they’re taking her to shooting parties and things.”

John mindful of Captain Flint’s comments about Swallowdale, glanced towards the western shore of the lake. His new friend followed his glance and laughed.

“No such luck,” he said, “The guv’nor would be happy enough – shooting and sailing in one place, but it’s not birds m’mother’s keen on bagging. Maudie herself doesn’t give a hoot of course – treats it all as a lark. She’s got twice the brains I have, though I don’t say so to her. Horse mad of course, which will come expensive on some poor chap.  How she can prefer them to boats beats me.”

John formed the impression that his new acquaintance was not more than five or six years older than he was himself. For all his garrulity, he was an agreeable companion. John happily agreed that boats were infinitely superior to horses; admitted cheerfully to sailing a little and never having learned to ride, and agreed that he also thought it wise not to let younger sisters or brothers think themselves too clever.

“Brothers.” came the groan. “Mine’s as daft as a brush. Maudie definitely got all the brains in our family.”

“My younger brother’s quite a lot cleverer than I am.” said John, who had come to that conclusion over the past year but was not going to admit it to another soul, not even Nancy. This chance met stranger was safe enough. “But he doesn’t work that hard, so I don’t think anyone’s realised it yet.”

“Watch out when he does. Maudie pulled that trick on me, once. Luckily, she slacked off again once she had her pony.”

  This somehow, brought the conversation back to the racing yachts and John heard about the Northern course and the Southern course and the rules for races until they arrived at Rio and his companion disembarked with a jaunty “Cheerio”.

* * *

 

Titty had been steering when the steamer passed them, heading from the head of the lake back to Rio. Susan waved at John. She was still looking back at the steamer when Titty noticed _Amazon_ changing course towards the western shore.

“Shall I follow them, sir?” she asked Susan.

“Yes.”

“Aye, aye sir.”

They had not, as Titty first thought, already arrived at the place they had been heading for yesterday, but instead had drawn closer to a small, stone building which appeared to be a chapel of some sort. It stood quite close to the lake – perhaps twelve or fifteen yards from it, but it was on a piece of the shore that was a good few feet above the water level. Titty supposed that the lake would have to rise a great deal before the chapel was in danger. It was surrounded by a carefully maintained wooden fence and with short, mown grass about it. At least, Titty thought it was probably mown, not grazed, because all the sheep were on the other side of the fence. Two easels were set up on the mown grass, one facing the chapel and one facing the lake. Both were un-occupied for the present. Two ladies, both dressed with comfortable untidiness were standing by the water’s edge, waving their hats. 

“Ahoy, _Amazons!”_ called the taller and stouter of the pair, then rather spoiled the effect by anxiously adding “Did I say it right?”

“Perfectly.”  The Amazons reassured her in chorus.

 “And these are our friends, Susan and Titty Walker. They’re the Swallows _.”_ Peggy said.

“At least half of them. Captain John and the Ship’s Boy are spending the day monkeying with engines on the _Tern.”_ Nancy added. “Susan and Titty, meet Miss Martindale and Miss Letty Martindale.”

“We can tell Miss Turner has been visiting.” said Miss Letty Martindale. “People are never usually that formal. Everyone calls us Miss Hetty and Miss Letty.”

“We’ll be finished here in a few hours. Would you like to come for tea?” said Miss Hetty

“We’ve got people coming ourselves today, but thank you for asking.” Nancy replied cheerfully. Titty glanced anxiously at Susan. Nancy, it seemed, could make Amazon hold station wherever she wanted her to, but Titty was finding not finding it as easy to do this with _Swallow_.

“Tomorrow then, about four-ish?” said Miss Hetty. “And do bring the others too. We do like having young people to tea. They eat such a very satisfactory amount.”

“We’ve got two young sailing gentlemen staying for the month. I’m sure you’ll like meeting them.” said Miss Letty.

“And it’s going to be calm, so you won’t be wasting sailing time.” Miss Hetty added.

“That would be lovely, thank you.” said Nancy rather hastily.

“Thank-you.” The others said.

* * *

 

They ate their sandwiches. Nancy seemed uneasy.

“Look here, Captain Susan” she said, “Miss Hetty usually is right about the weather, and the wind’s not that strong even now. Suppose we both go straight to Rio, pick up the Tinsdales and then you and Titty fetch  your mother and Bridget. We can go straight back to Wild-Cat.”

“We won’t be ready for them when we arrive.” said Susan doubtfully.

“It’s better than them wondering if we really meant it and if we’re going to turn up.” Nancy urged. “And suppose we got to Wild-Cat and then the wind died. It’s a beastly long way to row and it takes for ever. If you take little Joyce and one of the grown-ups, we can take the other one and the baby and the dog. Or we could take them all in _Amazon_ if you want, only I thought Bridget and Joyce would like to be sailing together.”

Early though it was, the Tinsdales were already waiting for them on the little wooden jetty to which Peggy had given such careful directions. Humphrey was sitting, quiet and alert, next to Joyce. He was wearing his very noblest expression, Titty thought, and she was quite glad that Susan had said that Humphrey would be better voyaging in _Swallow_ since _Amazon_ had a centre- board case.

A very few seconds after their arrival, Susan was, to Titty’s disappointment, agreeing quickly with Nancy’s suggestion that the excited Humphrey should after all voyage in the _Amazon._

_“_ Besides,” Peggy had said, “Humphrey wouldn’t start a fight with Ringman, but Ringman might not like Humphrey turning up. Ringman’s the dog at Holly Howe, she explained to Mr Tinsdale, who was waiting to pass Eric to Mrs Tinsdale once she had settled herself in settling herself in _Amazon.”_

“A farm dog has a duty to guard the farm.” agreed Mr Tinsdale.

Titty thought of Ringman, who regarded John with mildly affectionate respect, Bridget with an ostentatiously long-suffering expression and the rest of them with polite disinterest. She had to admit that perhaps he would not immediately hit it off with the exuberantly demonstrative Humphrey. _Swallow_ had already turned in to the bay overlooked by Darien, when Titty wondered what Polly and Humphrey would make of each other. She glanced back at the little white sail drifting slowly towards Wild-Cat Island. Nancy and Peggy were old friends of Polly’s and could be trusted to look out for his interests. She need have had no fears. By the time little _Swallow_ slid slowly onto the shingle of the landing place, Polly had established his superiority to this furry intruder.

“Polly just took one look at him and was furious. It was worse than when Polly came to stay at Beckfoot and the housemaid dusted Uncle Jim’s study with a new feather-duster.” Peggy explained. “Humphrey just took one look at Polly and hid behind Nancy with his tail between his legs. She had to take them up to the lookout point in the end. If Bridget and Joyce want to see Polly, it might be a good idea to do that now before tea.”

So Titty brought Polly out of his cage to receive his tributes of sugar from  Joyce and Bridget and perch on Mr Tinsdale’s shoulder, then Joyce’s and then Bridget’s while Mr Tinsdale showed Titty how to take photographs with his No. 2 Brownie. Mrs Walker wandered up to the lookout point while the two mates carried on with preparations for tea. She found Eric standing uncertainly, one hand firmly gripping the sleeve of his mother’s dress and using the other to throw pine-cones in the general direction of the Lake (and hitting it sometimes, by accident). Nancy was sitting next to him on the other side, with one hand firmly gripping the back of his rompers. She was tickling Humphrey behind the ears with the other. Mrs Walker joined them. She was introduced by Nancy, who then went to help the mates with tea and had to bring Humphrey back to the lookout point twice.

After tea, Bridget and Joyce had a lovely time throwing sticks for Humphrey, some of them in the water, and great were the protests from both the little girls when Mrs Tinsdale announce that it really was time for them to go. 

“Well they were getting on like a house on fire.” murmured Peggy to Susan.

“Complete with shrieking and running about.” replied Susan in a similar voice. “All the same, it is a long way to row and get back before Bridget’s bedtime. The wind _has_ gone completely.”

Eventually it was agreed that Nancy would row Mr Tinsdale and the dripping Humphrey across to Dixon’s farm so that Humphrey would get himself properly dry and exercised being walked back to Rio by road.  Nancy would then row down to the foot of the Lake to fetch the Captain and Ships’ Boy of Swallow.

“Humphrey’s not the only one who could do with the exercise after that lovely feast.” said Mr Tinsdale appreciatively.

The best-of-all-natives and Susan would row Mrs Tinsdale and the two younger Tinsdales back to Rio, while Titty and Peggy would, with Bridget’s help (or hindrance) make the stores tent ready for Mother and Bridget and begin to prepare supper. Mother had brought a paper packet of sausages, bought that morning and wrapped in greaseproof paper, a fine lettuce and some cold, cooked potatoes which only wanted slicing and frying. 

“I know you can manage very well,” The best-of-all-natives had explained, “but the Ship’s Baby and I know we can’t help being some trouble and don’t want to add to it.”

Bridget had stood forlornly at the lookout point waving her rather sticky handkerchief at her new-found friend as _Swallow_ was rowed away to the north. Titty noticed her lip growing rather wobbly.

“Cheer up, Bridgie. Just think of all the things you’ll have to tell her when you see her next.”

Bridget looked rather doubtfully up at her sister.

“You’ll be seeing her the day after tomorrow. Mummy has invited her to come and play with you at Holly Howe.”

Bridget squealed and rushed back to the camp to impart this exciting news to Peggy. It has to be admitted that Bridget did gloat a bit. Peggy bore the disappointing news that she would not be invited to play with Joyce very well, Bridget thought. Evidently it _was_ true that big girls did not cry when left out.

* * *

 

“..another reason while sail isn’t always best.” Roger was saying as they approached the _Amazon._

“Lazy little beast.” said John indulgently, aiming a half-hearted cuff at the side of Roger’s head which Roger, as John intended, easily dodged. “Hullo, Nancy, I’m sorry I didn’t think of you having to row when you said you’d pick us up.”

“You couldn’t have left _Swallow_ tied up by herself all day. Not here with so many people about.” said Nancy. “Did you have a good time?”

“I’ll let Roger bore you about the regulator. Shall I row? It seems only fair.”

“It will be faster with the two of us.” said Nancy.

“It’s not a regulator, the man explained that it was like a regulator on a steam locomotive…” Roger began to explain, but finding that no-one was listening to him, gave up. John had in fact heard the same explanation at the same time he had and Nancy was, reasonably enough, more concerned with getting home in time for supper. There was one bit of news though, that Nancy would want to hear.

“They did let Roger operate the thing like a regulator a bit and they said he did it quite well.” John told Nancy.

Roger opened his mouth to complain that John had given his news and then reflected that he could hardly have said the last bit himself. One good turn deserved another.

“They let John steer a bit.” Roger said. “You couldn’t tell which bit it was, even.”

John grinned and explained, “The bit that didn’t require much actual steering. Mostly I just lounged around on deck like a native.”

“All the best explorers do that sometimes.” said Nancy, “Learning the secret local customs, by living in disguise.”

“ I met a traveller from a distant tribe who gave me some valuable information about a tribal contest called “Seventeen-foot yacht racing”.” said John seriously.

“I, too, have heard of this exotic custom.” Nancy responded gravely.

Roger content himself with keeping a lookout and letting the sailing talk wash by him unheeded. They had nearly reached Wild-Cat island when a two words pulled his attention back to the by-now sporadic conversation.

“….chocolate cake and that sort of thing. I hope you don’t mind. We really couldn’t go on saying no.” said Nancy. Roger looked at her face. Anyone who did not know about Amazon pirates might easily think she was waiting for John’s approval.

Roger saw his brother make a decision and grin.

“Why not?” John said. “Feasting with Norsemen (well, women) in a mead hall in the long, arctic summer evening while they display the spoils of their raids. It won’t even matter that we have to row there in our long boats.”

Chocolate cake, it seemed, would be forthcoming. Good.


	5. Chapter 5

 

What will you do for the rest of the day?” asked the best-of-all-natives she and the Ship’s Baby were rowed back to Holly Howe. Titty and Susan were at the oars.

“Wood gathering. “ said John, “so are the Amazons. And then we’re going to have tea with some friends of theirs in Rio.”

“The artist ones we met yesterday.” said Titty.

“We thought we might go up in the woods behind Holly Howe.” said Susan.

“No point in looking for wood in the same place.” said John.

Mother, who had heard a little about the planned war from Titty and Roger, nodded gravely.

* * *

 

“Now Mister Mate.” said Captain John, once they were climbing up towards the little tarn above Holly Howe. “You had a plan.”

“You didn’t tell us!” said Roger.

“Too many ears about.” said Titty. “Everyone knows you can’t trust pirates.”

“Not when they’re being pirates.” said John.

“I’ll show you the place,” said Susan, “but you’ll remember it once you see it. It’s probably too far from the lake for the Amazons to know it.”

“They’ll be so jolly out of breath by the time they get there that they won’t be able to do much attacking.” said Roger, who was reluctant to admit that his shorter legs had anything to do with struggling to keep up.

“That’s the idea. Building a fortress on a hill.”

“Only we’re not going to build a fortress.” said Susan. “I think we have as much of the fortress as we need already there.”

The woods, a mixture of birch, larch, rowan and oak were getting thinner.

“Not so good for fire wood.”

“Less cover for them to sneak up.”

“If we go much further, we’ll be out on the moorland, I think.”

“Nearly there.”

They surveyed the ruin, scarcely more than a ring of stones, some of them quite big, on the little platform on the slope.

“Do you think people made this bit flatter ages ago, and then built on it, or did they build on it because it was flatter?” asked Titty.

“I don’t know, but it’s very old.”

Susan was thinking more practically. “If we put our circle down here, inside, we can probably stop them getting over the walls. They’re only a couple of feet high, but they’re wide enough that the Amazons would have to scramble over and not jump. And there are four of us and two of them.”

“Captain Nancy’s bigger than John.” said Roger dubiously.

“Not by as much as she was.” said John. “We’ve both grown, but I’ve grown quicker. I might beat her in a fight. I’m taller than Peggy.”

“Not by much, and Peggy’s still taller than Susan.”

“By just as much as ever.” said Susan.

“The Able Seaman and the Ship’s boy have grown too.” John said. “But if we are on the walls defending them, the height difference doesn’t matter so much.”

“Except for the doorway. John had better defend that.” said Titty.

“We can all back each other up.” said Susan.

“That’s the beauty of it.” said John. “We can rush from one side to the other more easily than they can rush around the outside. The problem will come when we come to attack their position. I wish we had specified that the rope circle has to be on the ground. I hope they haven’t thought of putting it up a tree or somewhere where height does matter.”

“We’ve still got the advantage of numbers.” said Titty, “We could always send out a scout if we wanted to. With only two of them they have to be there all the time. They can’t risk it any other way.”

“If they leave their caps on again there won’t be much need for scouts.” said Roger.

“Not much chance of that.” said John. “And there’s more of a problem if they make their way up the hillside and come down from that direction. But this is still the best we’re likely to find. Well done, Mister Mate.

“We’d better get gathering wood.” said Susan. “We ought to have dinner early. There are quite a lot of fallen larch branches.”

* * *

 

 “I’m still bigger than Susan. And perhaps John won’t be expecting us to fight as well because we’re girls.” said Peggy.

Nancy wasn’t going to admit to Peggy how she had thrown away any advantage they might have had in that respect.

“I wouldn’t bet on it.” she replied, “ Anyway even if we hold off John and Susan – and we have a good chance of managing that - everything is lost if their Ship’s Boy or Able Seaman manage to get past us. We need to find somewhere where they have to come at us one at a time.”

“Somewhere on a ledge.” suggested Peggy. “Neither of us minds heights”

Nancy thought about that as they rowed on towards Tea Bay. She thought about last year, about John’s plan with the lanterns and the night time cutting out expedition. John’s mind would turn as naturally to ledges and drops and ropes and surprise attacks and winning as hers did. He did climb very well. A ledge would be risky – Susan would be sensible, but John – John would not shy away from a risk. And it was so easy to make a slight mistake. Only one would be required.

“Too much to go wrong.” she said. “They aren’t as used to rocks and things like that as we are. And Roger is only eight.”

Last year she would have been more ruthless.

“If we can find somewhere difficult to spot, we don’t have to defend it for so long and it won’t matter so much about our being fewer.  Look here Peggy, I can’t remember anything being said about it not being indoors, can you?”

“But won’t they be expecting it to be outside?”

“Barbecued Billygoats, we must do what they’re not expecting, not what they are. Not that the place I have in mind is so very indoors as all that.”

* * *

 

At John’s suggestion, they rowed to Holly Howe and walked to Rio along the road.

“It doesn’t really make much difference to how far we row.” said Roger.

“This way no-one has to stay with the boats.” said Titty.

The still air was close and muggy and the sunshine was growing hazy. Titty was not sorry when Peggy said, “Their house is on this side of Rio anyway. That’s why they don’t get so many paying guests.”

“And never anyone with a motor car.” Nancy added, “You’ll see why when we get there.”

“We’ll have to remember that they don’t know that they’re being Vikings.” said John.

“They’d like it if we told them.” said Nancy grinning.

John and Susan exchanged glances.

“I’d rather we didn’t.” said John.

 Nancy looked at him curiously, but said easily, “Then we won’t of course.”

As they reached the edge of Rio, there were more visitors about. A couple of fell -walkers passed them with a cheerful “good afternoon”.  A car was drawn up at the side of the road with the bonnet up, steaming gently. There was no sign of the driver, but a man and a woman, both well-dressed, sat on the back seat, radiating discontent and complaining to each other in voices that were not quite low enough.

Nancy’s face was becoming rather red, although they were not walking especially fast. John did not think it was the heat, or, entirely, sunburn.

“You may as well spit it out.” he suggested quietly once they were well out of ear-shot of the car.

“It’s when they turn up and look at the scenery and say “how lovely and green” and then complain about the rain. It’s not as is if has rained much in the last couple of weeks either. How else do they think it’s going to stay green? They’re just complaining because they hear every one else say the same thing.”

They walked on in silence a little way.

“It’s not the visitors I dislike, just the complaining.” she added.

“I‘m glad to hear that.” He glanced at her. Was the Terror of the Seas actually blushing?

“You’re friends, not just visitors.” she said, but kept her eyes firmly on the road for another few yards before catching his eye and laughing. “Oh, you know what I mean!”

John smiled agreement.

Peggy, walking a little ahead with Titty, led them up a narrow, winding side street which climbed directly away from the Lake. The drainage channel down the side of it indicated the volume of water which might be expected to flow down it.

 Titty had somehow been expecting a cottage, small, crooked and perhaps over grown with creepers. The Misses Martindale lived in a sturdy semi-detached villa, perhaps fifty years old and built from grey local stone. Miss Hetty opened the door before Peggy had even had time to knock and while Roger and Susan were just stepping on to the short crazy-paving path up to the front door.

“Do come in.” said Miss Hetty. “It’s so lovely to see you. My sister’s just making a pot of tea now. We could see you coming. Now will you introduce us all, Nancy? I remember Susan and Titty of course.”

Nancy made the introductions.  Miss Hetty demonstrated that there was a good enough memory behind the fluffy manner by introducing them all to her sister, quite correctly, a moment later.

“Our guests will be joining us for tea.” said Miss Letty , “so nice for them to have some young company, although they are a few years older than you. I’ll call them in from the garden.  We had to put both leaves out on the dining room table, which is a treat. It’s hardly ever been so since our dear sister died.”

There were more introductions all round. Mr Monteith and Mr Morris were friends from university and quickly said they preferred to be called Ken and Hugh. They were wearing shorts. Fell-walkers or sailors? John wondered. He looked at their shoes as inconspicuously as possible. Sailors, probably.

Roger was looking at a photograph obviously in pride of place. It showed a man in uniform standing next to an aeroplane that now looked old-fashioned. John saw Roger open his mouth to ask about it and gave his shoulder a warning squeeze. Photographs like that were never safe to ask about with people you didn’t know well. Roger closed his mouth again, but examined the photograph as carefully as he could.

The tea table was as lavishly provided as Nancy had suggested it would be. The beautifully embroidered table-cloth and obviously best china made Susan wonder for a moment if they should have come in best clothes. Peggy and Nancy seemed unconcerned about their comfortables. Susan had, after all, chivvied the Able- Seaman into a clean, though somewhat crumpled, frock after dinner and put on a fresh frock herself. It had turned out that none of the Ship’s Boy’s clothes were any better than those he had on already. Susan remembered Nancy and Peggy in the flounces and frilled white frocks, sitting opposite their great aunt. Those “best dresses”, so unlike the simple cotton frocks that Mother her chosen for her, would really be more out of place than the comfortables. Ken and Hugh were dressed as if they intend to play tennis later. Perhaps they did.

Talk quickly turned on sailing. Miss Hetty and Miss Letty professed complete ignorance of the subject, but asked questions in such a way that they all soon lost any shyness and John, Hugh and Nancy were soon re-arranging the sugar bowl and tea-strainer to allow the butter dish to tack towards the tea-pot and then Ken sent the butter dish on a course round the table to demonstrate how buoys showed you the proper course in a race. Peggy seized the opportunity to butter a fruit scone as it passed.

“Man overboard.” said Titty.

Roger had sat between Miss Letty and Peggy. He was well out of reach of Susan, who might try to insist on bread-and-butter first. That would be a wasted opportunity, and rather ungrateful, since the bread seemed to be the only thing that had not been baked by Miss Hetty and Miss Letty. Roger had started, at Miss Letty’s urging, with a generous slice of chocolate cake and had followed that with a slice of the Dundee cake. He had remembered just in time not to call it “Armour-plating cake” only to hear Miss Hetty herself call it that a minute later. Miss Letty laughed.

“I don’t suppose you remember that, Ruth, I mean Nancy, do you?”

“Remember what?” asked Peggy, curious.

 Nancy shot her sister a warning look and studied her tea-cup carefully. She hoped her cheeks were not a pink as they felt. It was hard to be an Amazon pirate with people inclined to reminisce about you as a toddler, however kind they were.

“Your sister used to call it that when she was little. There were all sorts of things you couldn’t get during the war, so cakes were rather hit-and-miss affairs. She met her first Dundee cake coming to tea here and called it that. We thought it so charming, we’ve been calling it that ever since.”

“We call it that, too, at home.” said Titty.

Roger was working his way through a slice of Victoria sandwich cake, generously supplied with home-made jam, when the conversation turned to tennis. He became vaguely aware that the older ones were being invited to play.

“…Racquets at Beckfoot, if you want to borrow them.” Peggy was saying.

“I can never get my serves in, I’m afraid.” said Susan.

John was wearing his “polite” face. Titty was looking horrified, but probably thought she was hiding it.

“Nancy’s not bad.” Peggy was saying, but stopped abruptly. Roger thought Nancy had probably kicked her.

“I don’t think any of us could give you a proper game.” said Nancy and she really did sound apologetic. Tomorrow’s  war was saved.

Nancy mentioned a Viking helmet and Titty was dispatched to the attic to fetch it while Miss Hetty went to make a third pot of tea. They heard a startled exclamation from the landing.

Nancy, Peggy, Ken and Miss Letty exclaimed in unison, “The eagle!”

“Well, he is a bit disconcerting when you’re not expecting him.” Hugh said. “He’s given me a few frights when I’ve forgotten he was there.”

Nancy opened her mouth, received a meaningful glare from Peggy, and closed it again.

“He’s actually a she, although I don’t know how you can tell.” Miss Letty said.

“May I see?” Roger asked and trotted up the stairs to find a very life-like stuffed eagle peering at him over the bannisters. It was quite magnificent and Roger admired it when he was looking directly at it. When he turned away and could just see it out of the corner of his eye, it was much harder to be nonchalant about it. He had just reached out a hand to assure himself that it really was quite dead, when Titty came down the attic stairs with the horned helmet in her hands.  

After tea was finished, and everyone, even Roger, had had enough and everyone had tried on the Viking helmet, John and Nancy exchanged glances and suggested that perhaps they had better be getting back.

“Yes, it’s going to thunder.” said Miss Hetty, “but at least you’ll be getting a bit more wind tomorrow.”

* * *

 

“Do you think we’ll be like them when we’re that age?” Peggy said.

“Who, Ken and Hugh?”

“No, Miss Letty and Miss Hetty.”

“I hope not.” Nancy had pulled on her oars rather savagely, and deserved the reproachful look that Peggy gave her.

“Why not? I like them. And we always said we’d live here for ever and ever.”

“I like them too.” said Nancy. “And they didn’t give you away about being too scared to go passed the eagle.”

“There’s no need to be beastly about it. And I was very small.”

“It would only be beastly if I said something in front of the others.”

“Anyway, why don’t you want to be like them?”

_Because of that photograph._ Nancy thought. _Because all of a sudden, I can see that Miss Hetty is still just making the best of it; that she isn’t really happy. Because my mind put a different face and a different uniform in that picture and .. and I didn’t want it to.”_

Aloud she said, “We’ll come back here eventually, of course, but don’t you want to do something else first? Travel to all sorts of countries like Uncle Jim, go to live somewhere else for a while, maybe get a job on a ship or something?”

“As long as we can come back here.” Peggy said.

“We will.” Nancy tried to sound reassuring. It couldn’t be much fun knowing it was going to thunder and knowing you were going to be scared.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ken, Hugh and the Misses Martindale are all my own characters. Some of the details of their life and home have been borrowed from my magnificent (and, sadly, deceased collection) of great-aunts whose characters are, naturally, far too eccentric to make them credible as fictional people. The eagle (golden) was definitely real, but I don’t know what happened to it. It would only be beastly if I told you which of my cousins had to be escorted to the bathroom as a child because s/he was too scared to go passed the eagle by himself/ herself. It spooked me as well, but, like Titty and Nancy, I wasn’t about to admit it and consequently was the one on eagle- escort duty!


	6. Chapter 6

 

It was one of those storms that thunders for ages before there is any rain; even when the rain comes it seems almost pitiful in proportion to the fury that produced it. Peggy helped Susan prepare the supper, which they managed before there was enough rain to make the cooking difficult. Nancy pottered around the camp, spending a lot of time fidgeting about in the Amazons’ tent. Supper was ready by the time it started to rain, and they ate it sitting in the doorways of their tents. John had wandered up to the lookout point, but had not spent long there, and the Mate of the Swallow did not have to send the Ship’s Boy to bring him back. They had enough dry firewood stacked up in the stores tent for the morning and it did not seem worth lighting the lantern. Everyone (except perhaps Roger) agreed that an early night would be a good idea.

“Peggy, get your head out of the sleeping bag. How can you hear me like that? I daren’t speak any louder – you know what it’s like hearing things in other tents. It alright, I’m right next to you anyway.”

Peggy reluctantly obeyed. At least, unlike the Great-Aunt, Nancy had never tried to shame her out of the fear. She was rewarded with Nancy’s arm about her shoulders.

“You’re brave enough about anything else.” Nancy whispered. “Now look here, if we’re going to win we simply have to get the Swallows to split up or spread out or something. What we’ll do is this……”

* * *

 

“An hour until we can open their clue.” said Peggy, as they stood at the lookout point and watched _Swallow_ sail northwards before a gentle wind.

“Jib-booms and Bobstays, we can’t hang about, we’ve got enough to do to get ready. The first thing to do is get out of these clothes.”

“Why can’t we use our spare clothes?”

“They’ve seen us in these already this morning. It might not matter, but if they’re expecting to see us in these shirts then we had better make sure that’s what they see.”

“It’s a lot harder than it looks.” Peggy said as she stuffed her towel, nearly dry bathing dress (both Amazons had avoided swimming that morning) and pyjamas into her shirt. “We haven’t really got enough stuff for stuffing, unless we use the haybags.”

“We’d never handle them without being seen; they’re much too big.”

“It’s a pity we didn’t get to practise and see what they’ll really look like from a distance.” said Peggy.

“It can’t be helped. Not in the same camp. It wouldn’t work if they had even the slightest inkling of what we’re doing.”

“I don’t see how it’s going to work anyway. What’s to stop them sitting tight and waiting for us, or what they think is us, to make a move? They’re pretty much certain of winning that way.”

“Impatience.” Nancy said. “That’s why we have to get the dummies there as soon as possible. We have to give them time to become so impatient they can’t bear not to make use of the fact that they’ve spotted us. Look here, I think it works best if we use the pillow for the head and top of the body and use the other stuff for the rest. The legs don’t really matter. So long as they can see our caps and shirts and what they think are our faces.”

“It’s the faces that are the problem.” said Peggy.

“Take a pencil and some charcoal from the edge of the fire. We can draw faces on when we get nearer. If they go really badly wrong make it look like we’ve put charcoal on our faces as some sort of camouflage.”

“I don’t see how that’s going to work on a sunny day like this.”

“I didn’t say it had to work,” said Nancy, “They just have to think that we think that it might.”

Peggy sighed. “I don’t suppose we could do something the simple way for once?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Nancy had taken off her red stocking cap and put it on the corner of the pillow. She glanced up at Peggy. “Hi, you can’t use that.”

“Why not? You’ve got all the stuffing you need.”

“It’s John’s.” Nancy whipped the jersey out of her sister’s hands and folded it carefully. “I should have given it back the other day. I’ll put it back now.”

John’s tent was orderly, carefully and logically arranged. She put the jersey on his pillow with unaccustomed care. Her eyes lighted on the now faded telegram pinned on the tent pole. It was so short that to look at it was to read it. She flushed guiltily anyway as she wriggled back out of the tent.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing, let’s get these into _Amazon_. Bring the rope and that crutch and then we’ll have a look at that map if it’s time yet.”

“They had weeks last summer to scout out places.”

“They’re betting we don’t know this side as well, with nothing to bring us over here.”

“Except Uncle Jim.”

“Exactly. The Swallows have never known us without the _Amazon_. They forget this is only the third summer. They probably didn’t think much about what we did before.”

* * *

 

The thinness of the woodland had allowed patches of bracken to grow. The bracken was not as tall here as it was on the more open hillside, but it would do. Nancy prodded herself into a more realistic position with Roger’s crutch. She had had to fasten her wrist-watch to a shirt button, but it caught the light which was all that mattered.  You couldn’t see detail from that sort of distance.

“One of them looking this way. Titty I think.” Peggy reported quietly from her hiding place. Even knowing exactly where she was, Nancy couldn’t see her.  She might call her sister a galoot fairly frequently, but when it came to lurking or tracking, Peggy could beat all the Swallows as well as Nancy herself.

“Don’t move yet.” Peggy continued. “She’s gone to fetch John. Now Susan’s having a look as well. There’s Roger.”

It seemed to Nancy an interminably long time until Peggy said, “They’re still looking this way occasionally, but they aren’t all watching at once. We’ve got ages to work our way round up on to the hillside.”

“Unless they decide to come now.” Nancy suddenly doubted the wisdom of her plan.  She thought she could count on Titty and Roger at least to become impatient over the course of a few hours, but suppose John sent a party to capture “the Amazons” now? At the very best it would be a race to see who could get back to the fallen hut, where presumably they had their circle. Nancy was sure John could beat her if it came down to a straightforward race, although she was equally confident she could beat any of the others and so, probably, could Peggy.

“Can you see anyone else?”

“Back of John’s head.”

If he had sent out a scouting party or a cutting out party already, it was only the Mate and the Ship’s Boy. Good. Nancy remembered the end of the race to Beckfoot, remembered last summer’s war, remembered John’s glittering eyes and challenging grin in the firelight. She could outwit Mother, the Great-Aunt, Cook, Peggy and even on occasion her Uncle. It was entirely possible that John would do something brilliant and unexpected at the last minute. She was so wrapped up in her own thoughts, wriggling after Peggy, that she heaved an audible sigh of sheer pleasure.

“What’s the matter?” Peggy asked, quietly.

“Just happy.” Nancy said, “ _Anything_ could happen.”

Peggy knew her sister too well to find this comment strange.

* * *

 

They were in position. Sound always did seem to travel more easily up slopes. They could hear occasional comments from the Swallows.  These were often drowned out by bird-song. The first place they lurked was just a little too near a blackbirds’ nest. Both the Blacketts had thought that the alarm put up by the female blackbird would alert the Swallows. The Swallows seemingly ignored it, but when the male blackbird returned and dropped his beak-full of worms to scold them too, they shifted their position further away from the nest.

“We don’t want the chicks to die because the parents think they can’t get to them.” Peggy had said.

The Swallows had their sandwiches. The Amazons had their sandwiches. The blackbirds had good many meals. Both adults became so accustomed to Nancy and Peggy that they hopped about turning over leaf litter within a few yards of them.

Nancy was beginning to think that she had made a mistake and that the Swallows would sit it out until four o’clock. If that was the case they would just have to make a last minute rush and hope that attacking from uphill would give them some advantage.

About three o’clock (the minute hand on Peggy’s watch could not always be relied upon, although the second and hour hands were good enough) they heard discussion almost amounting to argument going on amongst the Swallows. They could not hear the details of the argument, but after a little while, John and Titty slipped over the side of the ruined hut that was furthest from the dummies and started working their way round towards them.

Peggy started to move. Nancy grabbed her arm.

“Not yet, you galoot. We need them to get as near the dummies and as far from here as possible, but if they spot it that they’re dummies, they’ll shout. We need to be on the others before that happens.”

“It’s hard to spot that sort of thing when you’re Indianing.” said Peggy, watching John and Titty carefully. Nancy picked up a couple of stones in readiness.

One of them must have had the Mate’s whistle. Two shorts and a long. Susan and Roger looked around them. Nancy seized a moment when she though they were looking away and threw a stone into the bracken on the other side of the fallen hut. It disturbed the vegetation and made a sharp noise of stone on stone. No time was to be lost. Peggy and Nancy charged down the slope. Speed was the main thing now. They had to get one of them into that circle before John and Titty could struggle back up the slope from the dummies. How fortunate that John and the quick-thinking Able-Seaman were in the cutting out expedition. Susan and Roger were looking in the right direction now. Roger scrambled onto the remains of the wall. It brought his waist up to the level of Nancy’s shoulder. She grabbed him around the legs and lifted him off the wall in an approximation of a fireman’s lift. Her knees protested at the extra weight after the rush downhill.

“You eat too much chocolate.” She panted as he thumped her back uselessly. She could spare a glance for Peggy now. Peggy had used her momentum to carry her over the wall and push Susan back. Roger’s capture distracted Susan for scarcely a second, but it was enough. John had reached the fallen hut surprisingly quickly, but it was still too late. Peggy stood with both feet in the circle.

* * *

 

“I should have realised that you would never make the same mistake twice with the red caps.” said John as they started to walk down to Houseboat Bay, where _Amazon_ had been pulled up. The other _Swallows_ were walking back to Holly Howe, calling on Mrs Walker and the Ship’s Baby before collecting _Swallow._

“It’s very kind of you to help, but we can carry all this back to _Amazon_ quite easily. After all, we carried it up.” Nancy said with careful politeness.

“Oh no, I wouldn’t dream of leaving you to carry all this stuff.” John replied with a bland smile, meeting her gaze. How had he known that she wanted one last look at their “fortress” before tomorrow? She could have cheerfully shaken him.

The path narrowed after it crossed the road and they walked single file. Nancy brought up the rear and relieved her feelings by flipping a small, early-falling acorn at his back. He turn round and grinned.

“You won’t win the other two, you know.” he warned her.

“We’ll see.” She could not help grinning back.


	7. Chapter 7

 

“No luck at all – she knew exactly what I was doing. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she had taken me on a little detour just to trail a red herring. We seemed to come back directly enough, though.”

Titty, lying on top of one of the harbour rocks with her eyes fixed on the little white sail, said, “ She probably realised that you’d realised that, so she realised it wouldn’t be any good. That’s the worst of her being so clever.”

John from the top of the other rock spared a quick glance at his sister. “You’re clever too. You won the war for us last year.”

“That was just grabbing a chance.” said Titty.

The thought of the might-have-beens when they were sailing around on the lake in the dark, rose up in John’s imagination again, blocking any reply he might have made.

“I think,” said Titty, “that it’s the one they call Tea Bay.”

“Then it probably isn’t too near there.” Captain John said. “Although I doubt it’s that far either. The Mate and the Ship’s Boy should be ready by now.”

“We should do it by tracking them.” said Titty, “That’s the proper way. Searching an area just isn’t as like a real war.”

* * *

 

They had tried tracking. The trail petered out by a tarn above Dixon’s farm. They had tried searching. They ate their sandwiches. They searched some more. They ate their apples. After more searching, Roger began to complain that his foot ached. The Mate served out a ration of chocolate, which seemed to alleviate the problem for half an hour.

“You were the one who decided to leave your crutch at Holly Howe.” she said severely.

“Bridget wanted to show it to Joyce today.” Roger replied. The crutch was really more of a nuisance than it was worth, even in entertainment. It had been rather satisfying to bestow it on Bridget as a toy. None of the others could provide a crutch.

“I wonder if they really are here.” Roger said allowed. “Why shouldn’t they be somewhere else entirely, not where it said on the map? You said yourself that pirates weren’t to be trusted.”

“She wouldn’t go back on her word.” said John quickly, “Just keep it in a way we aren’t expecting.”

“We’ve been over everywhere. There isn’t anywhere else for them _to_ hide.”

John said slowly, “Suppose the circle of rope is here, somewhere, but they aren’t. Suppose they’ve just put it down somewhere inconspicuous with in the area they’ve marked and sailed off for the day somewhere else. We’ve been looking for them, not a piece of rope.”

The hearts of all four Swallows sank. It seemed so exactly the sort of plan that Captain Nancy would come up with. They would have to search the whole area again, much more carefully. John glanced at his watch. It was already three o’clock. They had precious little chance now.

“Didn’t the agreement say you had to stay with the circle?” Titty asked.

John shook his head. He had thought of it and not mentioned it, hoping it gave him a possibility the Amazons had not thought of. In the end he had decided that it threw away the Swallows' advantage in numbers. That just meant it would work better for the Amazons. The Swallows got to their feet, spread out in a line with Susan at one end and John at the other and carried on with their search, eyes fixed on the ground.

Half an hour later they heard excited barking. They all looked up. John at the end of the line nearest the barn saw a golden, bushy tail waving frantically by the Dixon’s barn.

“It might be something else, not them.” said Titty, who was next to him in the line.

“That’s a dog who is happy to see someone. I don’t imagine Humphrey has met Mr Dixon” John said. Roger and Susan came over to them.

“Look here, spread out and pretend you haven’t noticed anything.” John said urgently.

They continued searching.

“It _is_ Humphrey, Susan says she can see Mr Tinsdale.” Titty passed the report quietly along the line.

There was a whistle and Humphrey lolloped after Mr Tinsdale down a track towards the lake although he stopped and looked back at the barn a couple of times.

“Tell Roger to pretend to find something on the ground and we’ll all look at it. We need to make a plan.” John said quietly. Titty duly passed on the message.

Roger obligingly called out, “I say, come and look at this caterpillar.”

They all clustered round him.

“We know they’re in the barn and we know it’s in the bottom bit and not the top bit, because of where Humphrey was.” John said.

“They know we’re here, but they don’t know we’ve seen them.” said Titty.

“There’s probably a doorway or a narrow gap. If we have to push past them in single file, it won’t matter that there’s more of us, just that they’re bigger.” Susan said.

“Like Thermopylae.” Roger put in.

“But the Greeks lost that.” said Titty.

“So shall the Amazons – lose I mean.” Roger grinned.

“We haven’t got an Ephialtes to help us.” Titty pointed out.

“Greek traitor who showed the Persians a hidden footpath through the mountains so they could outflank the Greeks.” said John hastily seeing a question form in Susan’s expression. The Ship’s Boy would tease the Mate for days if she had to ask, which would be bad for the discipline of the crew, besides making the camp uncomfortable.

“There might still be another entrance on the other side.” Roger said.

“That’s the first thing to check.” John agreed. “We can’t help them knowing we’re here, but we need to keep as much surprise as we can manage. We already know ourselves how difficult it is to keep alert for that long. Amazons do seem to get bored easily.”

Roger opened his mouth to argue and then shut it again. He supposed it depended on your age. Both Nancy and Peggy seemed happy to talk to John and Susan for hours about nothing that seemed to matter very much when Roger would rather be up and doing. Still, since his brother and oldest sister seemed quite happy with their parts in the conversations, Roger supposed it must be part of this “getting older and slowing down” that he occasionally heard the natives talk about.

“We work our way round to the other side of the barn as if we are still just searching.” said John. “We’ll see if there is another door there and if there isn’t, we snake our way quietly up to the barn and slip round to the entrance on this side. If they are standing just inside the door looking out they won’t be able to see us until the last minute. With a bit of luck, we’ll catch them with only one at the door.”

 “Suppose there is another entrance?” Susan asked.

“You and the ship’s boy stay on the other side. The able seaman and I will come back to this one. When you think we’ve had enough time to get into position, attack. Anything that makes them split their forces is a good thing. Titty and Roger, remember that our objective is to get inside the circle. Winning a fight doesn’t matter. Let the Mate and me take care of holding the Amazons off. One more thing.” John had been thinking furiously since he saw Humphrey’s waving tail. “They will be expecting us to push passed them. Try pulling them out of a door way.”

“But we need to get inside ourselves.” said Roger.

“There are more of us. Suppose Susan pulled Nancy out of a doorway. You could just slip in behind.” Titty explained.

“We haven’t got time to plan anything more elaborate. We’re cutting it fine as it is.” said John. “No war cries or signals that we’re in position or anything like that. If there are two doors, it really doesn’t matter if we don’t attack at the same time. In fact, it will be better. If we can slip through an undefended door it will be easy.”

It went to plan – pretty much.

There was only one door. Nancy was lurking just inside it. John grabbed both her wrists and jerked her forward. Susan, lurking unseen on the other side of the doorway slipped past Nancy into the doorway with the others close on her heels. Nancy had already begun to react, learning forward to push him back. Her momentum combined with his own carried them a couple of yards from the door. Her foot caught on something before she could regain her balance. John took another few paces backwards, pulling her as hard as he could, getting them as far away from the door as possible. Titty and Roger would need only a few seconds. He stumbled, tried to regain his balance, failed and felt himself falling backwards.

Nancy had fallen backwards off a high stile on a step slope once. It had felt like this. There was nothing to grab onto or push off from.  The fall was inevitable, but you had time to think. All she could do was to try not to fall on John too heavily. She hoped he wouldn’t hit his head on a stone. She twisted round as much as she could to her right. They hit the ground. It would hurt in a minute. It did.

“Are you hurt?” she was asking. Was this the first time she had spoken, or the second? He moved his hand hastily. She was already wriggling to one side and rose to her knees.

“Did you hit your head? Have you landed on a rock? I’m sorry I’m so beastly heavy.”

“You’re cut.” he observed.

“Just scratches. Gorse.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, either, and I bet I did, thumping down on you like that. Did you bang your head?”

He didn’t feel much like moving, but she was going to keep asking, so he sat up. He reached up to feel the back of his head, but she was before him.

“It’s not really a bump. Yet.” she said doubtfully and then added more cheerfully. “There don’t seem to be any rocks and it rained the night before last, so the ground isn’t as hard as it might be.”

They could still hear yells of triumph from Titty and Roger. The Mates came out of the barn to find out what had happened to their Captains.

“You look like you’ve been fighting a cat.” Peggy observed to her sister. “Why do you always have to find the only gorse bush?”

“Avast there.” said Nancy, almost absent-mindedly. She let Peggy dab iodine from Susan’s first aid kit on her face and arm while Susan checked John over. Susan did sound very professional with her questions. The Captains dusted themselves off and got to their feet.

“Are we going to call at Holly Howe before we go back?” Titty asked.

The Captains exchanged glances. Mother was bound to ask awkward questions. John thought the first of these was bound to be “ _What am I going to tell Mrs Blackett?”_ Some things would be easier if Nancy was a boy. He couldn’t imagine her as anyone but herself, exactly as she was. Life would be unbearably dull without Nancy Blackett.

“The Ship’s Boy has walked enough. Let’s get back to Wild-Cat Island.” Susan said firmly.


	8. Chapter 8

 

“Sail ahoy!” Roger yelled. Everyone could see the rowing boat coming from Holly Howe

“Rowing boat.” John said. The Swallows were even with the Amazons again. He knew he should be feeling more enthusiastic.

“It’s Mother.” said Peggy.

“Both of them?” asked Susan.

“Just ours.” Peggy scrambled to her feet. “She’ll want a cup of tea. I’ll put the kettle back on.”

“It looks like the Holly Howe rowing boat.” It was the able-seaman’s turn with the telescope.

“She’ll have driven round to Holly Howe, seen your mother and borrowed the Jackson’s rowing boat.” said Nancy.

“I wonder why Mother didn’t come with her.” Titty said. “It’s still ages until Bridget’s bedtime.”

“Probably got the Tinsdales there, and Joyce is playing with Bridget. She couldn’t come if there were other visitors, but Mrs Blackett could.” John suggested.

They scrambled to their feet, dusting bits of pine needle off them.  They went back to the camp. Nancy, Peggy and John helped Mrs Blackett pull the rowing boat up safely at the landing place.

“Nancy, what have you been doing now? Fighting a cat?” asked Mrs Blackett after she had hugged her daughters.

“I tripped over and fell in a gorse bush.”

“Again? Oh poor Nancy, how very unpiratical!”

John thought that the best-of-all-natives would not have giggled.

“I can see that Susan’s first aid kit had been put to good use. Any damage to your clothes, or is it just you?”

“One sleeve a bit torn.”

“I suppose I’d better take it back with me to mend. If you carry on like this, you bad girl, you _will_ be wearing frocks because you’ll have nothing else to wear. I suppose it was the only gorse bush for yards in any direction?”

“It always is with Nancy.” said Peggy.

“It could be worse, you might have..”

“Mother!”

“It does you good to be teased sometimes, Nancy.” Mrs Blackett said, but she hugged Nancy again.

Molly heard Nancy whisper fiercely to John “Don’t tell!” as they walked the few yards to the camp. That made sense. Younger brothers, even other people’s younger brothers never did know when to stop teasing. Roger was not very different from Jim at that age – except that Roger was so much happier.

“I’ve had Miss Letty on the telephone this morning. Mr Morris has slipped on the stairs last night – you know that twisty bit just as you get to the landing – and has broken his arm. He’s meant to be crewing for Mr Monteith in a race tomorrow afternoon. The doctor has set his arm – Mr Morris’s arm I mean - and says it’s about as good a fracture as you can have, supposing you have to have one at all. Still, he can hardly be sailing in a race tomorrow. Mr Morris wondered if John would like to crew for him tomorrow.”

There was a pause then everyone tried to speak at once.

“I bet that eagle startled him again!”

“Barbecued Billygoats, what a chance! We can easily postpone the quest another day, let’s go and tell Uncle Jim now.”

“Which one is Ken and which is Hugh? I’ve forgotten.”

“You said you wanted to try it.”

“What time does he have to be there? And where does it have to be.”

“Why me? I mean Nancy and Peggy have known the Miss Martindales much longer and they sail just as well.”

Mrs Blackett laughed and held up her hands.

“The eagle wasn’t mentioned. John, you were mentioned and specifically asked for. Susan, the race is in the afternoon but Mr Morris says if you can get there any time after nine o’clock, the sooner the better, because that way you can have more practice. I assume you’re to go to Miss Letty and Miss Hetty’s. Nancy, your uncle already knows. He came to Beckfoot this morning to pick up a few bits and pieces. Oh and he says he’s coming to supper tomorrow evening if that’s alright with the Mates. He says it’s about plans. I didn’t ask any more. Miss Letty was on the telephone at the post-office; you know they haven’t got one themselves. I had to give her an answer there and then, so I said yes. You will so it, John won’t you?”

“Of course.” John said automatically.

Mrs Blackett jumped to her feet. “I really had better be off. No thank you, Susan, I had tea with your mother and I don’t think I could fit any more in. Bridget and Joyce were having a whale of a time with that crutch, Roger.”

* * *

 

Nancy was not entirely sure that a row was going to be necessary. If there was going to be a row, the harbour was the best place. She wandered down the path to it after waving Mother off from the landing stage. The others had gone up to the Lookout Point to wave to her mother. She had begun to fiddle around with things in _Amazon._ You could not really call it tidying when everything was tidy enough already.

 She heard his footsteps on the path and did not look round when he said, “It really should be you.”

“I wasn’t asked. You were.”

“No particular reason why it should be me.”

“Or me either.”

“Shiver my timbers, John, four days ago you were saying how you would love to sail one of the 17 footers and now you’ve got the chance. It’s rotten luck on Hugh breaking his arm, of course no-one could expect you to be glad about that, but I don’t see why you aren’t jumping at the chance, even if it’s just for one race.”

“It seems unfair.”

“We can hardly both do it.”

“You know the lake better, you’ve known the Miss Martindales for longer, and you sail at least as well.”

“That race to Beckfoot says otherwise, commodore. And you met Ken and Hugh for the first time when I did.”

“One race.”

“Still a race.”

“It’s just…”

“Spit it out.”

“I think they’re asking me because you’re a girl. That’s unfair.”

“You could be right.”

“Don’t you mind?”

“I’m used to it.” Her voice sounded drier, older. “I just have to be better, that’s all. And in this case, I really don’t think I am. So I don’t mind.”

She glanced at his face and straightened up, putting her hands on her hips.

“Don’t you even think of refusing to do it or telling them it should be me, John Walker. For one thing you’ll be making Mother look a fool, and she’s had a bad enough summer as it is.”

John opened his mouth; paused, closed it again, nodded.

“I’ll do it.” He said after another pause.

“Good.” She grinned at him, and started back to the camp.

* * *

 

There were to be no mistakes with watches this time. There were to be no mistakes of any kind, if it could be helped. They had both carefully noted down from the blackboard which buoys had to be passed on which side, but the details of the course were firmly fixed in their minds.

“It’s the Northern course – I’ve sailed it more often, so it’s a bit of luck really.” Ken had said. “I won’t say _Atalanta_ knows the way by herself – but it couldn’t really be better for us. Rotten for Hugh of course.

So here they were and John found he was far more nervous than he had ever been about sailing before. It was the possibility of letting someone else down that made the difference. Ken was _Atalanta_ ’s skipper, and the fact that he was not her owner was of as little importance to him as the fact that the Jacksons owned _Swallow_ was to John.

_Atalanta_ was beautiful. Her sails soared upwards in tall graceful lines. Her hull was sleek and slim and varnished and perfect. Atalanta was fast.

Ken had explained her name that morning. “Named after some Greek goddess who could run faster than anyone. Went hunting and lived in the woods and didn’t like girls’ stuff. Killed suitors who didn’t run as fast as she could. Had a boyfriend – no not a boyfriend – he want to be but she didn’t, just a friend then – anyway, they went hunting together and killed a wild boar, or lion or something. The chap killed it, but only because she’d got a blow in first, so he gave her the head, but the others chaps got jealous and killed the friend, or nearly killed him, so she went after them in revenge. After that I get a bit muddled, but some golden apples were involved and someone got turned into a lion. Anyway point is that Atalanta was the fastest. Maybe she wasn’t actually a goddess, just a mythological person.” He had looked at John. “Sorry if I’m making a botch of it or your one of these brainy fellows who can remember that stuff just like that.”

“That’s alright. I didn’t know about Atalanta. My brother likes Latin, but I don’t know how he is on Greek stuff. I used to do it, but I do extra maths now.”

Ken had glanced at him sympathetically. “Lots of people find maths difficult.”

John had said nothing. It would be too much like boasting to explain.

Ken might not be the best at classics and might even have his own problems in mathematics, but he was a good sailor, and John had learned a lot that morning. The wind was moderate rather than fresh, but _Atalanta_ still sped along as if she intended to match her namesake.

Mother had tried to explain how she felt about horses last Easter.

“Your _Swallow_ is like a pony – a good pony. She’s small and sturdy and not expensive to look after and you can use her for all sorts of things and she’s good fun. She can’t carry as much cargo as a bigger boat – she’s not a draught horse and she isn’t as fast as a boat built just for speed. That would be like comparing a sturdy pony to a thoroughbred.”

Titty and Roger had been charmed by the idea and kept naming types of boats and asking her what breed of horse they would be. Ponies simply went up in John’s estimation. After this morning he began to understand Mother’s views on horses more. Perhaps she had felt the same riding as he did sailing.

A flag was being hoist on the committee boat. R. Five minutes to go.

The Blue Peter went up. Four minutes.

Blue Peter down and a long hoot. One minute.

Class flag down…. And they crossed the line almost instantly. Ken made no mistake.

* * *

 

Three Swallows and two Amazons watched the start with anxious eyes.

“They got away well.” said Peggy.

“That other boat you mentioned before, (was it the Mary-Ann?) is ahead.” Titty said.

“Polly-Ann.”

“Faster boat, more experienced crew, belongs to her skipper.” Nancy said.

“Does it make a difference?” Titty said.

“I think it does.”

Titty ran a hand along _Swallow’s_ gunwhale as if in reassurance.

“It didn’t help _Amazon_ , did it?” said Roger.

“John is a better skipper.” Nancy said.

“So long as _Swallow thinks_ she belongs to the Walkers, it probably doesn’t make a difference.” said Peggy. Her eyes were still on the race, so she didn’t get see the startled looks the other gave her.

“Shiver my timbers, of course it doesn’t.”

* * *

 

“We leave that one to port.”

“Are you sure? They’ve just left it to starboard.”

“I’ve just checked. The other boats left it to port too.”

 Atalanta was heeling over well. It was exhilarating. They mustn’t let _Atalanta_ down with a single mistake. They were somewhere in the middle of the fleet. Perhaps a little closer to the front.

* * *

 

“Do you want a turn with the telescope Susan?” Titty offered

Susan shook her head. She had glanced away for a minute to check that all was well and that _Swallow_ and _Amazon_ were still safely out of anyone’s way, and when she looked back she could no longer pick out _Atalanta._

“They’re bound to win with John.” said Roger. “He always does win things.”

“Day before yesterday.” Peggy said quietly, but quite audibly to anyone in _Swallow._

“Yesterday.” Roger countered.

“If they’re placed any higher than eighth it will be better than they’ve been doing before. I asked around while the Mates were buying the ginger beer. I mean, grog. Polly Ann’s meant to be doing well this year and Nepenthe, Ripple and Caress.” Nancy’s voice lacked some of its usual ringing tone. Anyone who didn’t know her might think she was anxious.

* * *

 

There was a shout of “water.”

“They are on the inside. We have to give them space.”

More than half way. Running south before the wind which had change again to (mostly) northerly overnight.

* * *

 

“We better be shifting.” said Nancy, setting _Amazon’s_ oars in place.

“There’s a spot we can see the finish line, and some of the course without being in the way. We really won’t be.” Peggy seeing Susan’s expression, reassured her.

* * *

 

“Sixth.” Said Titty as _Atalanta_ crossed the line.

“Not quite the same as winning.” said Roger a little sadly.

“It’s better than they were doing before this race. Didn’t you hear what Nancy said before?” even as she said it, Susan thought she had spoken too sharply.

“Daddy will be pleased when we write to him.” said Titty.

“Barbecued  billygoats, that’s their best result yet.”

* * *

 

“Fifth.” said Ken, “Thanks to John we did go the right way round every buoy. Not everyone did.”

It seemed only fair to go and tell Hugh about the race.

“ No-one one has ever gone to the Misses Martindale’s and not come away stuffed with cake.” Peggy reassured Susan as they hurried back to their boats. “Uncle Jim won’t mind.”

* * *

 

When they got to Wildcat Island, they found their supper guest had already arrived and started preparations. The two Captains were seeing that their ships were tidy and secure for the night in the harbour while the others helped with supper.

“Well Captain John, does _Swallow_ seem slow and tame now?” Nancy asked, grinning.

John patted _Swallow_ reassuringly on the bow. Elegance and speed had their attractions but sturdy and practical still meant more to him.

“Never!” he said fervently.

He glanced over to where Nancy was checking that _Amazon’s_ oars were stowed neatly and smiled. Piratical had its place too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Atalanta is the produce of my imagination; Polly Ann seems, so far as I can trace her, to be like the other good things in this story, a product of Arthur Ransome’s imagination. The other 17ft boats Nancy names are real and existed on Windermere at about that time, but I have not been able to tell if they raced in or existed in exactly 1931.  
> Nancy’s remark about “being better” is not mine either, but I thought it deserved a wider audience than just me. I’m sure its originator is too busy with her career as a naval officer to be reading fanfiction. (If you are reading this, I’d love it if you got in touch.)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as the Lake and Wild Cat Island are composites with a few inventions to suit the story, so are “the Games”. I think it’s pretty obviously which characters are my own and which belong to Arthur Ransome!

 

“Here’s your Holy Grail.”

It clanged against the empty enamel plate in a very satisfying manner and glowed in the fire-light and the warm remains of the sunset-light that filtered through the trees.

“May we look.” said Titty, but Roger had already picked it up and was turning it round. The brass gleamed and the alternating squares of mirror and blue glass discs in the rim caught the light and flicked it across the faces of the others. 

“I like the mirrors.” said Titty.

“I’ve seen them put in pottery and embroidered on to clothes too.” Captain Flint said.

“That shawl you brought for Mother.”

“Not that she ever got to wear it. I seem to remember that you two..”

Nancy gave her uncle a sharp prod in the elbow. The last time the Blacketts had played dressing up had been a good few years ago, before they had been pirates. Still, there was no point in giving the Swallows the wrong idea. They had a reputation for ruthlessness to maintain.

One of the best things about Uncle Jim was how quick he was on the uptake.

John was turning the cup round in his hand now.

“From the East?” he asked doubtfully.

“From India.”

“So what are the rules for this next bit?” Mate Susan asked.

“Is it tomorrow?” said Roger eagerly.

Captain Flint laughed. “No, the day after. Tomorrow is the Games. You wouldn’t know, but I’m surprised at Nancy and Peggy forgetting.”

“It still feels as if it’s only the beginning of August.” said Peggy, almost shamefaced.

 “I feel that way a bit myself,” Captain Flint admitted, “but it’s the third week and tomorrow’s Thursday. I thought the Swallows might want to go. There isn’t anything quite like it really.”

“Except at Grasmere.” said Peggy.

“But what are they?” Titty asked.

“Westmorland wrestling and running races and fell running and some other competitions.” Captain Flint said.

“And people you haven’t seen for ages in their best hats and saying “Haven’t you grown and aren’t you like you’re mother when she was your age?” ” said Peggy.

“That’s not going to bother the Swallows. Their mother was in Australia then! And _we_ don’t have to wear best hats or best anything.” said Nancy.

“It is good fun.” said Peggy

“It’s only in the afternoon really. We can sail in the morning.” said Nancy.

“It’s in a field just this side of Rio, usually.” said Peggy.

The Amazons looked hopefully at the Swallows. The Captain of the Swallow looked at the Mate, who said firmly, “Of course we’d love to go, if you think it’s a good idea.”

(“It sounds a bit like _a fete in aid of_ “ said the captain of the _Swallow_ to the mate later, when the pirates were out of earshot.

“You could see they really wanted to go.” said Susan.

“You don’t get wrestling at fetes- in-aid-of.” said Roger.

“Explorers always do watch tribal celebrations.” said Titty.

“Anyway, we’ve said we’ll go now.” said the mate firmly. John nodded. It didn’t do to give the able-seaman and the boy ideas about arguing with the mate. The next step would be arguing with the captain.)

* * *

 

Once again they left the boats in the Holly Howe boathouse and walked the rest of the way into Rio.

There they found no-one at Holly Howe but Ringman, who greeted them with slightly more enthusiasm than usual and responded to John’s tickle under the chin with a respectful lick. The dog followed them hopefully up to some boundary visible only to himself and whined a few times as they carried on without him.

“He knows he’s getting left out of the fun.” said Titty.

* * *

 

When they arrived at the field, there was so much to see that they found themselves splitting up naturally into pairs. There were so many other people about that it was difficult to all stick together anyway. John privately thought that Titty and Roger might be enjoying themselves more. Nancy seemed to know everyone local and most of them stopped to greet her, remark on her growth and resemblance to her mother, enquire how she was getting on at school and ask when she was going back. Nancy always introduced John and he found himself answering questions about _Atalanta_ which he didn’t mind, or the sinking of _Swallow_ which he minded more than he expected. Nancy was jolly good about sweeping him away from even the most tenacious native when that happened.

“They _will_ remind you about going back, just when you don’t want to remember.” was all she said.

The second time John was being pressed for an account of _Swallow’s_ shipwreck she had blandly announced that they had to win some coconuts before they all went. There was a coconut-shy and they decided they could afford one lot of five goes only.

“It’s pretty good though – some places only let you have three goes for the same amount.” said John.

John insisted that she had the first throw. She hit coconut that wobbled slightly on its stand, but did not actually fall. Her second throw was harder and brought down a coconut. John’s first ball missed entirely and his second stuck a glancing blow and didn’t actually fell the coconut. He insisted on Nancy having the last go. She won another coconut.

“If we’re on a deserted island we ought to be eating coconuts.” she said.

“Living on nothing else, like Peter Duck.” John agreed.

“Do you think Mr Jackson has a saw that he’ll lend us until tomorrow? Nothing else seems to work properly on coconuts. I’ve tried every year.”

* * *

 

“….and this is my friend, Susan Walker.” said Peggy for what was probably the fifth or sixth time.

Again, Susan shook hands, and replied that, yes, she did like school, but holidays were better; yes, Father was in the Navy; yes, she had two brothers and two sisters; and yes, she did like the Lake and hoped they would come again next year. This elderly lady eyed her somewhat more beadily than the others, before bidding them a good afternoon and turning to greet a pale, wispy and somewhat deaf woman to whom Peggy had already introduced Susan. Susan hurried them away as quickly as possible, but could not help over-hearing.

“Well I don’t know what Maria Turner’s holding her nose up about. The child’s courteous enough and you can see the mother must have taste. A simple dress is far better than dressing girls as if they are guests at a wedding every day. I don’t wonder Molly’s little girls go to the opposite extreme – Maria will probably finish by giving them one of these new-fangled complexes and I couldn’t blame them – although I can’t say I approve of complexes, too much like showing off to my mind. Still, I expect fresh air counts for a lot.”

Susan glanced rather sheepishly at Peggy, who grinned back cheerfully.

“You can’t help overhearing when people are talking to Miss Tomlinson. She has a rather magnificent painted metal ear-trumpet, but it’s rather heavy, so she doesn’t always bring it out with her.

Roger and Titty came running up.

“Mother’s over there with Mrs Tinsdale and Joyce and Bridget. There’s going to be some races for little kids – under-eights it says on the notice - before anything proper starts.  Joyce and Bridget are going in for the three-legged race, so we had better watch it. And we’re to tell John and Nancy if we see them first. Mother says she’ll give us all some money for ices.” said Roger.

“We met Mary Swainson and her friend Jack, you know, the woodman, and they said to tell you that old Mr and Mrs Swainson were asking if we would come and visit again before we have go back again to get ready for school.” said Titty, and they went off to find Nancy and John.

 Susan and Peggy went to find Mrs Walker. By the time they did, Mrs Blackett had joined them. Bridget and Joyce were practising. Susan helped them tie the scarf around their legs more securely. Peggy noticed her own mother gazing across the field and followed the direction of the gaze. Their housemaid, Ada, in her very best summer outfit, was walking on the arm of a slightly older man, whom Peggy did not recognise.

“That’s one problem which might solve itself, given a little time.” Her mother murmured. Peggy did not know what her mother meant by a problem. Ada and the man certainly did not look as though they were arguing. In fact, the looks they gave each other were a bit soppy, although they were walking in a very dignified manner. Mrs Tinsdale was asking a question and Peggy pushed the matter out of her mind to answer it.

* * *

 

Nancy hoped that John had not seen her jump when a cold, wet nose was applied to the back of her knee. She turned around quickly and thought that she sounded quite composed as she said,

 “Hullo, Mr Tinsdale, Hullo Humphrey!”

* * *

 

Titty and Roger saw Hugh and a man who looked so like him that he must surely be his father. The field was becoming more crowded. Left to himself, the ship’s boy would have wriggled his way through. Nancy or John or Peggy or Captain Flint would have “excused me”-ed their way through fairly briskly. The able seaman was even more tentative in this sort of situation that the mate. They still had not quite reached Hugh and his father, who was now talking to another man, when Titty grabbed Roger by the shoulder and said fiercely, “Let’s go back to Mother. Now.”

She seemed angry rather than upset. Roger didn’t know why, and it seemed best not to ask. They were the last of the group to arrive at the roped-off ring.

They cheered Bridget and Joyce on.

“We came second to last.” said Bridget.

“You came third.” said Mrs Tinsdale firmly.

There was a commotion at the far end of the field.

“That’ll be the first of the fell runners back.” said Peggy.

“Boys under 14 went off first.” said Nancy.

“Well it won’t be Jacky. His legs are still too short to win.” said Mrs Blackett.

“He’ll do well though. There aren’t that many people our age, after all.” said Peggy.

They all walked up to the top end of the field to see. Mrs Blackett and Peggy were both right. Jacky hadn’t won but he came fourth and had beaten two boys who were older, or at least taller, than him.

“Titty’s upset about something, but she won’t tell me what.” John said to Susan as quietly as he could in the fuss of congratulations and more introductions and further remarks about foxes and Jacky’s mother telling him that he was not going to sleep out on the mountain by himself. Only Nancy and Humphrey were near enough to hear.

Nancy, with Humphrey in close attendance, drifted over to Titty. Titty bent over to fuss Humphrey and Nancy squatted down next to her.

“Look here, Titty, did you run into Hugh’s father by any chance?”

Titty bit her lip and nodded.

“Going on and on about how _Atalanta_ would have done better with Hugh and saying John was useless?”

Another nod from Titty.

“We ran into them, too, with him holding forth to his chum. I was going to introduce ourselves and watch him squirm. John wouldn’t let me. I suppose it would have been a bit mean to Hugh. You could see he just wanted to curl up and be anywhere else.” said Nancy, adding, “He’s a lot more decent than I am.”

“Hugh?”

“No, you tame galoot, John of course.” Nancy would have been hard pushed to say why her cheeks were so pink. Probably a mixture of indignation and sunburn. “Anyway, don’t worry about it. Mr Morris will get his comeuppance, I promise you. Honest pirate.”

Titty gave a rather weak smile and hugged Humphrey, whose tail sped up in appreciation.

* * *

 

They all trooped back to the roped off ring to watch the first of the wrestling bouts.

“It’s like a mixture of winter underwear and Morris dancers.” remarked Roger, fortunately not too loudly.

 “It looks as if they’re about to begin.” said Mr Tinsdale.

They were. Peggy explained that it was the best of three bouts.

“I can see how he lost the first bout.” said John who was watching carefully. “The other chap definitely had him down, but what about the second?”

“If they break other man’s hold but keep their hold on him, that’s a win as well.” said Nancy.

After watching a few bouts Bridget, Joyce and Eric all became fractious and Mrs Blackett said she had better be rowing back to Beckfoot, too.

 “Don’t be too late back, will you, Nancy?” she said, slipping something into her hand.

You might almost have thought that Nancy was waiting for the mothers to depart before she turned to the others and said “Mother gave me money for ices. Who wants one?”

Everyone did. Roger went back to watch the wrestling with Mr Tinsdale. Susan thought she had better go back to keep an eye on him, and Peggy accompanied her. Rather to John’s surprise, Nancy said that she would really prefer to sit down and they sat at one of the little tables by the refreshment tent. Nancy’s expression looked vaguely familiar to John. He had seen it before, and not long ago. She said nothing but ate her ice cream very slowly. Sitting in the carriage, opposite the great aunt – that’s where he had seen that demure expression. Titty ate her strawberry ice in silence, glaring at Hugh Morris’s father sitting at a table nearer the refreshment tent. John gave up any attempt at talking and applied himself to own ice- cream.

Nancy sat up straighter, smiled and beckoned. Miss Hetty came and joined them.

“Let me get you an ice-cream.” Nancy said and jumped to her feet; it was almost as if she was afraid Miss Hetty might say “No” and was giving her no chance to reply. She was already a few paces on her way to the refreshment tent before she turned round and asked “What flavour?”

She was still holding her own ice-cream. She had been eating it so slowly that perhaps it had melted and no longer clung to its cone. Perhaps she had turned round too quickly. Perhaps….. but no, surely not even Nancy would or could flick and ice-cream two or three yards and have it land so exactly on the trousers of Mr Morris’s immaculate fawn linen suit.

The fuss was immediate and immense. Nancy was apologising profusely and repeatedly offering to pay for the suit’s cleaning. Mr Morris was red with fury as he yelled at Nancy and refused to accept her apologies. His friend was trying to calm him down and looking rather embarrassed. This only served to infuriate Mr Morris further. Humphrey came racing up and growled at the person who was being so aggressive to his idol, although he took good care to do so from behind her legs.

“Nancy Blackett has always been a _most delightful_ girl and I’m very fond of her.” said Miss Hetty to no-one in particular.

Mr Morris called Nancy a name which….well there was no use hoping Titty hadn’t heard it. John leapt to his feet. Miss Hetty’s hand on his arm, surprisingly strong, restrained him.

“Better let Mr Turner handle this.”

And Captain Flint was approaching, accordion in his hand, closely followed by Mr Tinsdale who grabbed Humphrey by his scruff and put him back on his lead. Nancy came back to the table.

“Uncle Jim says we’re to go home at once. I’m sorry about your ice, Miss Hetty.”

“I’d already had one.” Miss Hetty shook Nancy warmly by the hand.

* * *

 

“October.” Said Nancy suddenly.

Peggy was steering the _Amazon_ and gave her only the briefest of glances.

“What about October?”

“First time I’ll have any pocket money after I’ve paid for the cleaning. Sooner if I get birthday money of course.” Nancy glanced across at _Swallow_ and sighed happily. “Worth every penny.”

 


	10. Chapter 10

 

“It isn’t any further than ten yards from the shore. It isn’t inside any building. It isn’t buried. It _is_ within the area I’ve marked on the map I’ve just shown you. The first crew standing here with the cup – Grail, I beg your pardon Titty, will be the winners. Again, if no-one wins by four o’clock, it’s a draw.”

“Why four o’clock?” asked Roger.

“Because after that the ices will have melted”.

“Excellent. Not melting I mean, but”

“We know what you mean, Roger.” said John.

“Ready?” asked Captain Flint. “Go!”

With only two of them, it was perhaps not surprising that the Amazons were back in their ship with the sail hoisted and drawing away from the houseboat first. In any case, John thought, with the wind from the south it was inevitable that Nancy and Peggy would be well ahead of them before they reached Rio, let alone the area marked on the map. Titty and Roger were greatly perturbed by this. John had been giving it some thought and unless the cup was so obviously placed that the Blacketts were bound notice it the moment they got to the search area (which seemed unlike Captain Flint), he thought the Swallows had a better than even chance. Once the Amazons were so far ahead they would be unlikely to overhear anything said on _Swallow_ he relinquished the tiller to Susan.

“Come aft for a minute, Roger. I don’t want to speak any louder than I have to.”

“Aye, aye sir.”

“Captain Flint said within ten yards of the shore. He didn’t say within which ten yards.”

“If he told us, it wouldn’t be a quest.” said Roger. Titty grasped John’s meaning more quickly.

“He could have put it in the lake and weighed it down with something.” she said.

“How’s he going to find it again?” Susan asked.

“Put a marker on the shore, or use something already on the shore as a marker.” said John.

“It might still be on the shore.” Susan said doubtfully.

“It might.” John agreed. “That’s where the advantage of numbers works in our favour – and _Swallow_ having room for Roger before the mast. Once we get there, we start searching at whichever end of the shore they’re not searching. Even if they notice what we’re doing, it won’t help them much, with only two of them, but there’s no point giving them an idea they haven’t had.”

“They’ve known Captain Flint all their lives. They’ll be much better at thinking like him.” said Titty.

“Even so, we have an advantage. You and Susan can be walk along the shore looking. I sail Swallow and Roger can be looking over the bows. The water’s pretty clear and the wind isn’t that strong. You’ve got a jolly good chance of seeing it if you look straight down. Whichever of them is sailing Amazon will have to be looking down over the stern and watch what they’re doing as well. The chances of them seeing the cup under those conditions aren’t that good.”

“Why don’t we start in the middle?” asked Roger.

“Then either way, if we don’t find it in the first half we search, we might have to cover some of the same ground again to get to the other bit we haven’t searched.” Titty explained.

“We might have to. It’ll be hard enough keeping within ten yards of the shore with the wind behind us. We’ll have to be jolly careful.” John felt rather glad that he had seen the flaw in his initial plan before the others had.

The Amazons had started at the nearer end of the outlined section of the shore and were both on land. He supposed that, if they found the cup first, whatever extra time if took to get back to _Amazon_ would not matter. The Lake curved out a little to the west beyond the little chapel. The Amazons would not be able to see them start their search from there.

“Hullo,” said Titty, “Why is the water coming out from half-way down that drainpipe?”

“A bird’s nest maybe?” Susan said.

“We haven’t got time to get distracted by drainpipes.” said John rather shortly.

Even Susan agreed that, with a feast planned for four o’clock, it would be a pity to leave dinner too late and the explorer’s nibbled on apples and the sandwiches.

The wind was dropping steadily, but at first John still found he had to make constant adjustments as Roger kept asking him to go slower. Eventually, though this proved easy enough. John began to think that when (if) they found the cup they might be faster rowing back.

“Ahoy, _Swallow_. Ahoy, Susan.” The able seaman was only a few yards away, but the shore here was a good few feet higher than the Lake.

 “They’ve found it,” Titty continued, “They’re heading, back.”

“It might be a ruse.” said Susan doubtfully.

“Can’t see how that would work.” Titty objected.

“We’re rowing. Look lively.” John didn’t have a plan in mind. He only knew that he hadn’t given up yet. Every second might be of importance. He had to admit his crew could be efficient.

 “Lower that flag, able seaman.”

“Aye, aye sir.”

He knew she hated doing it. He didn’t know himself why he had given that order. In a very few minutes he and Susan had an oar apiece and were rowing after _Amazon_ as hard as they could. Maybe it was just a question of waiting for their chance and seizing it. That was, after all, the way that Titty had won the war for them last year, despite so much careful planning. Last year, John had written to tell Daddy about the war and confess to the night sailing. Once the confession part was over, John had found it the easiest letter he had ever written. When Daddy had written back, he had quoted someone who said “No plan ever survives contact with the enemy.” John still had the letter of course, with the name of the man who said it, but couldn’t remember it now. It didn’t matter. They would just have to make sure that whatever plan Nancy had didn’t survive contact with the _Swallows._ First of all, they had to make contact. They were gaining on the _Amazon_. If they caught up with her could they board her? They didn’t need to capture her, just take control of her for long enough to grab the cup. He felt himself grin briefly. A successful act of piracy against the _Amazon_ pirates had a certain charm. Nancy would never be able to top that. (Probably.)

The Ship’s Boy’s still limited swimming ability was the problem. Any risks of that sort should be John’s and John’s alone, this time, daylight or not. John had learned his lesson last summer. Of course, with a dinghy that small, he might not need to board it at all. If they could do something in the small islands about Rio…….. If Nancy was going to start rowing soon, she would have to deal with her sail first. She would probably choose to do so before she had to thread her way through the more crowded water around Rio with natives muddling around in hired rowing boats and the steamer to be avoided.

If they saw him in time it wouldn’t work, but if he swam underwater; if they were preoccupied with sail and the boom; if he could see the cup easily; if he could reach it; if the hadn’t hidden it in a knapsack; maybe even if they had – had they been carrying one or two this morning? Two knapsacks would be impossible. One would be difficult. Would there be anything in it that would be damaged by water?

Silly to think _Swallow_ could get that close to the _Amazon_ without them noticing. So… let them notice but let them think…. Think what?

“They’re stopping by that island.” said Roger.

The plan suddenly came together, seemingly of its own accord.

“Titty and Roger swop with us.” John commanded jerkily. He needed his breath back before he swam underwater.

He explained to the others in low voices, taking his sand-shoes of as he did so. The shirt would have to wait until they were behind that little island. He emptied his pockets. Luckily his belt was the elasticated snake-belt sort.

Nancy and Peggy waved at them cheerfully as they approached, clearly aiming to pass the other side of the little islet.

“Bad luck.” They chorused. Peggy waved the cup at them. It was loose. Good. John made sure he noticed where she put it down.

“Well done.” John reminded himself not to look too unbothered, just as if he was trying to look unbothered.

“Where was it?” Susan asked.

“Jammed in the bottom of a downpipe on the chapel. Peggy noticed the water coming out of the wrong place.”

 “We won the race; we had to let you win something.” Roger called cheerfully.

Good-humoured laughter came from the Amazon. “Cheeky monkey!”

“No -  that’s Gibber.”

More laughter as they slide behind the islet. A small splash as John went over-board could not be helped.

“Roger concentrate on rowing.” said Titty, clearly and reproachfully.

John risked a breath and a quick glance as he came round the end of the islet. They were looking the other way. Well, he could only try. Nancy wasn’t the sort to laugh at him if he failed anyway.

It worked. He felt amazed as he grabbed the cup, flipped over on to his back for second, pushing off strongly from the _Amazon_ and shoved the cup hastily under his belt. It was secure enough. He had tightened the slider a bit as they approached the islet to make sure. The Blacketts moved to fend _Amazon_ off from the islet first. He was out of their reach before either of them thought to grab him. He heard Nancy laugh again. Could he get back to the _Swallow_ before they caught up? Yes. Susan had had the sense to keep slowly underway. John scrambled aboard.

 Now it was just a matter of keeping ahead of the _Amazons._ They were fresher at the moment, but if Titty and Roger could just keep ahead enough it would be safe to swop over again. It was going to be a close-run thing. There was about thirty yards between them, but the Amazons were catching up. A motor launch came out of Rio Bay.

“He’ll hit them.” Susan gasped. He didn’t, but he passed very close in front of them.

“That Mr Morris.”  said Titty

“She’s alright.” said John aloud, not noticing how oddly Susan glanced at him, and then almost angrily to Titty and Roger, “Who told you to stop rowing?”

 John drew a breath, and looked behind him again before turning back to Susan. “They really are alright.”

The incident had slowed _Amazon_ down more than _Swallow._ The Swallows changed places well before they passed Darien, and John was warm enough and pretty much dry before they reached the houseboat.  Even Susan didn’t think there was anything to fuss about.

Except for one thing.

“He better hadn’t.” Susan said when the ice-cream was offered round.

Even John’s hair was nearly dry. His shirt and shoes had never been wet. There was no reason (well, hardly any) for him to be sitting on a towel. Arguing would be futile. Arguing in front of Titty and Roger would be unwise. Arguing in front of the Blacketts would be disloyal.

“I had one yesterday.” He said, trying not to notice the amusement in Captain Flint’s eyes.

“Peggy?” Peggy took a third of what was left.

“Nancy?” she shook her head.

Jim wondered as he helped himself to half of the ice-cream Peggy had left. Nancy loved ice-cream just as much as the rest of them (except perhaps Roger). Had yesterday’s incident really been an unfortunate accident after all? Had Mr Morris’ tirade yesterday really upset her? (It was probably futile to hope that she didn’t know what some of those words meant.) His niece might be wild, but she would not act maliciously. There was too much of her father in her (too much of Molly as well for that matter). If she had flung that ice-cream deliberately, she would have done it in hot-blood. Nancy would have felt she had a sufficient reason for her anger. Of course, the reason, like so many of Nancy’s reasons, might be incomprehensible to everyone else. Was she regretting her loss of temper (if that was what it was)?

The feast over, Roger and Titty were dispatched on to the deck with a tin of polish, couple of rags and John to keep an eye on them. Roger had said if they could not fire the cannon, polishing it would be the next best thing. Jim was happy to oblige. Susan and Peggy were washing up. Nancy was helping to clear the table. Perhaps she really was feeling penitent?

“Could I have that bit of ice-cream, after all?” Nancy said. “It seems a pity to waste it.”

Jim concealed a smile. Perhaps his niece hadn’t grown-up all that quickly.

“Of course.”

The sun was low enough to cast a golden glow. The air was calm and comfortably warm. They need not start out for Wild Cat Island yet. John Walker sat with his legs over the side of the houseboat, appreciating the view. Life couldn’t get much better than it was at the moment. Nancy came up behind him, not quite silently. John felt her cool fingers briefly touch his arm.

“You seem warm enough to me, commodore.”

She sat down next to him on the deck. Her shoulder just touched his. Neither of them wriggled away. She held out the small bowl of ice-cream.

“I brought two spoons.”

                                   The end.


End file.
